mole
(Linja Meller)

I’ll tell you the story of the old vagabond
rummaging paths through the dirty old ground
his eyes they were lazy
the whole day was night
too narrow, got crazy
but too weak to fight

but a long time ago he had forgotten what he now was looking for

our vagabond climbed up all ridiculous hills
searching the horizon and the light that fills
his dreams that he tried
to catch, but in vain
cause the length of his sight
was the devil to tame

and the vagabond he sight and his tears filled the bottle of disillusion

our vagabond failed
failure was his tool
a mole’s eyes are blind
the horizon is in his soul

one day our mole, he stopped to dig
and his finale mole hill was his mole mound
in his last few breaths, the solution was found
you could never see with the eyes on the ground

so cry for the mole an epitaph
look up and laugh