| i was born in a forked-tongued story
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| raised up by merchants and drugstore liars
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| now i walk on the paths of glory
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| one foot in ice, one in fire
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| i see the mountain, the mountain comes to me
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| i see the mountain and that is all i see
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| some poor prophet comes, some find solace
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| some lay him down in a junkyard bay
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| some will chase us and some will call us gone, gone, gone in a day
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| gone to the mountain, the mountain comes to me
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| i see the mountain and that is all i see
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| miller take me and miller grind me scatter by bones on the wild green tide
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| maybe some roving bird will find me over the water we’ll ride
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| over the mountain, the mountain comes to me
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| i see the mountain and that is all i see
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| some build temples and some find altars
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| some come in tall hats and robes spun fine
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| some in rags, some in gemstone halters
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| some push the pegs back in line
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| i see the mountain, the mountain comes to me
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| i see the mountain and that is all i see |