Things didn’t turn out to be the way that
I thought they really would be.
Often times, and more than not, they’re not
done the way that they should be.
It’s approaching that time when I move my
old mountain—this fact is most certainly true.
It’s time that I carve that big old mountain
that is blocking my one and only view.
My fifteen minutes are still on the way—
but coincidentally, I just might need twenty.
You say that there are no silver linings,
but touches of grey are surely plenty.
With time of the essence and all in a hurry,
I’m simmering the meat for the great big stew.
I believe it’s time to move that old mountain,
the one that blocks my incredible view.
Bulldozers, trucks, and backhoes not needed—
I’m thinking it will only require my hands.
For once in my life I’ll go to the source,
the untapped one that even I can’t stand.
So as I tunnel deep while digging in the dirt,
it’s time to find soil that bleeds all blue.
No better time to move that **** mountain—
you will be glad when I’m rid of it too.