At The Foot Of The Mountain

By the foot of a mountain lives an old man
Who sits all day and hopes things will come his away
And the first time ever I passed by his way
He called me: «son, come on over here»
He said: «Although you may not know me
But deep down, something tells me
That you’re just going astray
So relax here and hope love will pass tour way
Though I try to live good among by brethren
They always act as if they can’t accept it
And so now I’m tired of being trated this way
I’ve got to return where I know love will pass my way
So when I reach home, I shall sing the song
Of love to you
To you, to you, to you.