By 2010album1 High on the mountain slope
The sun burying its rays
The heat scorching the surface
Luckily the dead leaves and twigs defend it
The old man walks steadily with his stick
Poking the ground of dead leaves and twigs
The chirping of birds of many species
He hardly can tell as his eyes sight dim
He can hear perfectly into the silent forest
As he treks along with his walking stick
The natural sights he's home at his base
For the outsiders he is just an ordinary old man
He sits on a big moulder stone
He lights up a cigar taking a deep draw
He feels the cool breezing air serenade around
He feels right at home in his natural flow
The darkness of dim lights
The sun tries hard to hit it right
It barely touches the vast green forest
The old man climbs up the mountain slope glares
In this mountain slope he is his element
Drawing out his hands he controls his territory
The strong wind wooing in the silent forest
The people in the valley wake up to listen
The pages of history must be learned
The pages of new lines must be written
The pages of changing rules and laws
The pages of freedom to express mustn't ignore
The old man writes into the clouds
It carries the messages down to the valley
Now he looks he feels satisfies with his decision
He changes into light and disappears into the sky
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