Skyclad Worn Out Sole To Heel
It's a mountain that we all must climb - In giant leaps or one step at a time. I saw a fat old money lender - shoes of silk and ermine, Laughing as they stumbled on bilstered feet rough shod. He never helped the poor and weak - viewed them all as vermin, So when he fell they passed him by and struggled up to God. Each of us must walk a different track - No sign to guide us and no turning back. Chorus: Humanity in motion - it's the pilgrimage eternal. Most are blind - but I suspect what rare few know is real. "You carry me, I'll carry you" - this simple childish notion. A cable car to Shangrai-La. Your worn out soul to heal. The soldier boy is marching proud (with military precision), Kicking others from the path - so keen to reach the peak. Never will he get there with this tactical decision - He spends so much time fighting that each footstep takes a week. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero. Persta et obdura - omnia vincit amor! My money's on the holy man - just clad in sack and sandals, Heard a small child crying there - so turned around and stopped. Like a beacon now he shines (bright as a million candles), Alone upon the summit when the selfish have all dropped. It's no contest - but we still race there, like the saintly tortoise and the godless hare. Chorus: Humanity in motion - it's the pilgrimage eternal. Most are blind - but I suspect what rare few know is real. "You carry me, I'll carry you" - this simple childish notion. A cable car to Shangrai-La. Your worn out soul to heal. You're worn out sole to heel, Your worn out soul too ..... Heal your worn out soul.
