The Men On The Hill There's a man who lives in the forest, Amongst the plants and the trees, At the top of a hill, Where he sees no one, And where he can't be seen. Slowly drinking, slowly breaking, everything he once craved. One by one he takes his lovers, To his bed of wood and stones, One by one his friends are falling, To his words of scorn and spite, A sole bottle standing upright, He can only live alone. There's a man with no shoes standing nearby, Beating his drums in the yard, His smile lights up the valley, From behind his wooden stove. Strip your #life back to nature, Reveal your earthly roots, This man don't need no bottle, This soul don't need no boots. Give a man a whistle and he'll blow it in the wind, Seeking out attention, seeking out a friend. Give a man a bottle, and he'll ask another one, To form a glass top mountain, And cover up his fears. You can live in the forest, You can live on the beach, You can't hide inside a mountain, You won't find what you seek.