[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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