Mystic on a Hill

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Mystic on a Hill

 

I knew a mystic,

up on a hill all by himself.

 

He had left to get away from it all,

so he could know it all.

 

'Cept everyone knew his address

and stopped by like flies at a picnic.

 

I brought him pie, an' he said,

'No, no, not for me.'

 

I began to cry and he wept with me

like a long lost brother.

 

As he wiped a tear from my eye he said,

'If I know you, but I don't know myself,

I know neither of us.'

 

So I traveled back,

leaving him on the hill.

 

And it was then that I knew

like the saint that I aint,

there's nothing left to do

and no where to go back.

 

And when I arrived to where I came,

he was still with me.