There are mountains too beautiful to see
And valleys far too lovely for our eyes.
Yet that is where we often want to be:
Pure and passionate, untamed and free,
Racing through a field beyond our skies
In those mountains too beautiful to see.

We hunger with a cruel intensity
That rips away the smile on our disguise.
Yet that is where we often want to be:

Impaled upon a painful ecstasy
So real that all else seems like whispered lies
In those mountains too beautiful to see.

But we must sing our lonely sanity
And dance among the ashes of our cries.
Yet that is where we often want to be:

Naked in a room that we would flee,
Defenseless in our love, if we are wise.
For those mountains are too beautiful to see,
And those valleys are too lovely far to be.

 

 


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