You say the hill's too steep to climb,

Chiding!

You say you'd like to see me try,

Climbing!

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

Merciless, the magistrate turns 'round, frowning

And who's 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 his frown

You look down

Hear the sound of the faces in the crowd.