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Titel
Songtekst
Many a hand has scaled the grand old face of the plateau Some belong to strangers and some the folks you know Holy ghosts and talkshow hosts are planted in the sand To beautify the foothills and shake the many hands The nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop And an illustrated book about birds You see a lot up there but don't be scared Who needs action when you got words When you finished with the mop then you can stop And look at what you've done The plateau's clean, no dirt to be seen And the work it took was fun Well the many hands began to scan around for the next plateau Some say it was Greenland and some say Mexico Others decide that it was nowhere except for where they stood But those where all just guesses, wouldn't help you if they could
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