These pillars that we call skyscrapers
Stretch to the skies looking for the gods that rest upon these clouds
Yet all I see are these prisons bars hiding the mountains.
This concrete jungle is trying to persuade me that
Only my dreams could touch the sky
Not my oily fingers that paint the pollution in the skies.

I need to escape,
LA lied to me
They told me that beauty is within the actors and artist
They are the stereotypes that run this city

I need to move east
Move to the Rockies
The mountains that cut deep within these clouds.
There will be the place that I flirt with immortality

Airline ticket in hand, I knew I was not going to come back
I knew when I smelt the Colorado air.
This air that is so new
Untouched by man
And unseen by the models from LA

I tracked towards the mountains on a trail
This trail is the golden compass that many men traveled on
As old ruins of ghost towns sit intertwined with mother nature
Teaching us that man will die and mother nature will go on.

I reached a lake
12,000 Feet above the city slickers and the cameras
Painted with the strokes that no artist can brush
I can't brush off the unexplainable feeling
Of not hearing a single person.
Although this wooden sign says that that I am at Nolan Lake
I still believe that I am in heaven.
Clouds roll over the Mountains to greet me.
Tears roll off of my cheeks
And create this waterfall
That crashes onto the base of the valley
Surrounded by the Titans called Mountains

My heart is clean
My mind is calm
My hands are moist by gods tears of joy.
I am happy