we rise, for we want to be higher, then follow each wayward desire only to find out what the climbing's about: that's getting too close to the fire
we rise, for we want to be higher, then follow each wayward desire only to find out what the climbing's about: that's getting too close to the fire
There once was a boy from Dakota
Who wouldn’t say pop or say soda,
Instead, this poor bloke,
When he would drink a coke,
Would not name it. And then leave a floata!