[pink floyd, meddle]
(d. gilmour / n. mason / r. waters / r. wright)
You say the hill’s too steep to climb,
Climb it!
You say you’d like to see me try,
Climb it!
You pick the place and I’ll choose the time
And I’ll climb
The hill in my own way
Just wait a while, for the right day
And as I rise above the treeline and the clouds
I look down hear the sound of the things you said today
Fearlessly the idiot faced the crowd, smiling
Nothing waits, the magistrate turns ’round, frowning
I know the fool who wears the crown
Go down in your own way
And everyday is the right day
And as you rise above the fearlines in the frown
You look down
Hear the sound of the faces in the crowd
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