Climbing up this mountain of truth
Oh the things I've seen along the way
Many of days have passed
and the night has gone by
But still I have that gleam of light
that cuts the night residing in my eye
The higher I climb, the more I seem to see
the metel mouth which eats the land
and the red substance which makes up the sea
The more I know the more I loose touch upon myself
The air is thinning as I breathe in objectivism
But at night in my tent, I can't stay warm without irrational love