I want to go to the mountain top, And watch the sun rise. A mountain with rivers, A valley open wide. I want to see birds grazing, Raccoons within the trees. I want to take ink to paper, And so paint all of these. But there is mountain here. There are no birds, just rats. There are no raccoons to perch on branches, For all the trees turned black. There is no sun rise, just the haze of the day that comes... And so I remember the wild now Only in dreams and song But... I will keep on singing of wild grass and sky I will light the ember to fire That the memory will not die. I will find refuge under steel beam and brick And dream of a mountain That may not have ever in this realm exist.