the hill
the hill
The hill stands still.
Who shall save us from its ill ?
Who shall save us from its ill ?
Oh, i don't mean a metaphor of knights who kill and maim and hate.
Oh, i don't mean a simile of values cast in mold ,nor do I speak of greatness that has grown cold.
We need a knight
for in our past we sent them to the night,
for in our thirst for ail and dill
we forgot that there will come a time
to pay that wretched bill.
for in our past we sent them to the night,
for in our thirst for ail and dill
we forgot that there will come a time
to pay that wretched bill.
Alas, our hunger shall be growing still
for it has come for us.
The hill.
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