It’s not easy to dance with the devil in its home,
Its not easy to tread where none does,
Its not easy to fly with the eagles.
These paths are all lonely,
Which one must tread;
For you know what the ancients said,
‘Tis lone at the top;
You walk by yourself,
You fall then you fall,
There’s none left to pick you up.
You wonder to yourself,
Where did they all go?
My friend they left the path a long time ago,
When the road became tough,
And the skies darkened,
And the path ahead was not pleasant enough;
They turned their backs and went marching backwards.
You didn’t see them leave,
Because you never saw them enter.
It was always you and the road ahead,
Your soul is made of sterner stuff;
There’s fire in its heart;
A fire that could ablaze a thousand hells,
A thunder that could raise a thousand storms.
Now at last you have reached the top.
The mountain that you conquered.