Looking towards the mountains,
In the ceaseless hike of living,
Is it us who's taking step,
Or are we self deceiving?

The raging winds in sorrowful snow,
And fear shaking beneath,
Are we feeling it all,
Or are we sightseeing?

The high mountain summit,
Where we look to feel alive,
Is it the sight that we need,
Or what lays underneath it?

To play upon our burden,
To act as if it's myth,
To make us be the things that
we don't see ourselves being.

We need to look deeper,
We need to reach further,
We need to embrace it,
we need it, to receive it.

Or if we just ignore it,
Cover it up with being,
We lose sight of our self,
and sight of our beginning.

Lets hope the lone hiker,
Looking towards the mountains,
Can reach the deepest heights,
And see what needs seeing;

And what there is to be seen,
Gives him a farther sight.
Lets hope he keeps seeing,
Lets hope he keeps reaching.

Pull away from my arms
And rest your head on someone else's shoulders
I don't mind

When the smoke clears and;
You're thinking straight and thinking sober
You'll realise

That we were just two different people, pulled into the same old light
But when it got dark, we started to fight
'Cause we're looking for the eye of the needle
In amongst the hay of everyday people
We're bound to get it wrong sometimes
And that's alright
By me

These streets are awake
The lights offer a path to follow
Look up and not down to see
The treetops and brims of sky
Look out to see the painted houses
Of brick and melted yellow
Nowhere to be seen is order
The chaos is what makes it
Beyond words, beyond eyes.
It houses nostalgia of youth
It fears and celebrates death.
This city is mine but not for long
How I'll miss its descendants
Its language of old
The battered, the beaten
All the untold