Take me to the towers,
Made of dirt and stone.
I want to stand on their peak,
See where all light shone.
Feel as free as can be,
Like a bird through blue sky.
Except I'm trapped on the ground,
So I climb so very, very high.
My need for the mountain air,
Is like a water to fish gills;
I can't breathe without it.
I want to lie on its tall hills.
Take in the stars:
The endless sea in the sky.
No cars, no lights, no noises.
With no reaching mounds I'd rather die.
Alas, my life has brought me here,
To the sound of sleepless streets;
And the highest place I reach
Is in my loft bed sheets.
Toxic air fills my lungs,
City lights drown northern star.
I grow sad for now it seems,
The mountains are so very, very far.
I miss my home
