You're a mountain, but a swearing mountain.
You're death, but death that sends tremors.

Mountain of lava, of hundreds of paths,
you hold in your hands this life of mine.

Is this a place for homes or a place for jail
Where you're locked from morning till night?

You're purgatory for all these people
who live in slums and who live in need.

Whether you smoke or not you still make noise
its the fire you bear in your heart.

When the night falls and the sky gets dark
the mere thought of you makes us tremble.

Those who live with you, don't be surprised
if they go out mad they really are mad.

The only truth for us
would be to run away from you...
and yet, where shall we go? before the day breaks
this river of lava will drag us along and
leave us homeless.

You're a mountain, but what a mountain.

Blahnix

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