Mountain Man
Once I saw a runner, his pace it wasn’t slow And stopped him for a minute, to see where he would go He said he had a mission, he’d been running for years now see He’d been running since a toddler, and now was thirty-three At first I didn’t believe it, running for thirty years?! But his breathing wasn’t heavy, and no tiredness appeared That was sure impressive, for you should have seen his pace But running for that long time, and why here to this place? He was a mountain runner, at least that’s what he said But as I looked around us, it must have been in his head For we were in the low plains, not a single mountain could be seen And the closest that I knew of, were where he’d been running So then what a fellow, the ever runner that was lost I thought then to give a laugh, but there was something about this man I’d crossed Although he did seem out of place, it seemed like he knew where he was The pace he kept, the way he spoke, it seemed he had a cause And so I asked - why run this hard?...