I see the mountain

I was born in a fork-tongued story
Raised up by merchants and drug store liars
Now I walk on the paths of glory
One foot in ice and one in fire

Some build temples, some find alters
Some come in tall hats and robes spun fine
Some in rags, some in gem-stone halters
Some just push the pegs back in line

Miller take me and miller grind me,
Scatter my bones on the wild green tide
Maybe some roving bird will find me,
Over the water we’ll ride

Over the mountain, the mountain comes to me
I see the mountain, and that is all I see

Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer, The Mountain

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