I mount up with waxen wings So I build a mount of Athos With my home in your hands to show all the people why To show all the people why In the garden of my pride Too stupid to cry for rain Fruitless and choked out by weeds So I write a book of life Using the best words I can find For some struggler to snuggle up When the world becomes unkind When the world becomes unkind I find direction in eastbound clouds And long for what they (might) have But when I step into its midst Its substance I cannot grasp So I paint a portrait of you As if you had human disguise With oil and canvas to be clay "like you opened up my eyes