i’d be happy to move a molehill or topple but one stalk of wheat. you may think i’ve got low expectations, but i’m based in the real world at least. cuz ive seen you moving that mountain with only one finger it seemed, there was gold underneath but you didn’t miss a beat, you said, “it’s covered in dirt and don’t gleam.”

well walking on oceans, it must be nice, to never need worry you’ll drown. i’d wave to tourists as they sailed by, eyes wide, excitement abound. but you would complain that bordeaux is too far to walk to from st. augustine when it was your choice to walk, your choice to give up, and your choice to be angry with me.

it’s not hard to see, it’s not guaranteed that each night will be met with high praise

friends all around, feet off the ground, every moment a glorious blaze

i don’t remember the last time a day at the ocean didn’t feel like hell

keep on movin’ that mountain yourself

i know you think you are god’s gift to the world but i don’t really think that that’s true

in some ways, we arent so different

cuz i’ve had roses thrown at me, too

so maybe don’t act like you’re jesus healing a nobleman’s son cuz you’re more like an armchair athlete accepting a big platinum trophy you never won

i know you believe that everybody’s naive and stupid all of that stuff

often i wonder how i spent so much time around you cuz it’s always been tough

one day you’ll wish you could go back and cross every bridge who’s fires you just couldn’t quell

cuz you had to move that mountain yourself

there’s a general malaise among our camp these days, it comes when you walk in a room

with only a stare, you can raise every hair, you can ruin a whole afternoon

it’s not my fault that i don’t have the key when you’re your own prison cell

so let somebody give you some help

you never had to move that mountain yourself