Through the Valley Poem Lyrics with Music.mp4

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Through the Valley

Through the valley of trash he commenced
He needed to find some answers to his questions
Marching up the hill and climbing the fenced
Areas and enclosures that warned him to stay out
But now there was very little he wasn’t ready to go against
After he had run into the man at the paperstand
Who said all your problems can be condensed
Into a single point of nothing by a single man

Who could this man be our wanderer asked
The paperstand man said first you have to buy a magazine
So he flipped through a few of them and passed
To one that had next month’s winners in its pages
So he dug out some dollar coins to get the forecast
And the paperstand man smiled, pointed upward and
Then he said on the hill do you see the mast
There’s a monk up there that’s figured it all out

He’s spent the last thirteen years thinking about life
And now he has a recipe to fix all of humanity
He did it by meditating, studying, and throwing off his wife
They say he has ascended to the next level
And that when he speaks his voice has the sound of a fife
And he has a visible aura and a red-orange glow
He’s ready to cut through our pain with a knife
How do I get there he asked the paperstand man

No taxis or buses can get you on the mountain
There are no roads, just a jagged elevated path
If you take it up far enough you’ll find the fountain
Drink it up because it is the last chance you’ll get
So keep all your fingers poised to count in
“But what do I need to bring? Flowers, wine or a coin.”
He asked and “what exactly is the amount in”
“Three dollars fifty cents, but I can’t tell you the rest.”

Our wonderer checked into his room
And looked at all the accumulated dust
He lit a candle and then choked on the fume
He packed a bag of the most holy things he could find
A kitchen knife, his black rock collection and a broom
He set out into the night while the fires burnt
And the celebratory lights went off with a boom
He just set his head down and marched away

His thighs ached, his feet blistered, and his back bent
He forsook his fellow man seeing not another one
All the wild animals gathered as they picked up his scent
He wouldn’t make it another hour this way
But there was no shortcut or cheat to crawl through the vent
So he fashioned his walking stick into a bully club
Keeping away the evil spirits that hell sent
Only boredom, and visions and mirages greeted him

As he rounded a corner and yet another switchback
He saw a little church and get away resort
Nero, Nero, he cried as he ran up the track
To get where you’re going you need a bigger bottle than that
Said the priest who met him and took his pack
Once the collapsed man revived and was able
To speak he thanked the priest dressed all in black
Then he asked where in the world he was at

That really depends said the priest on where you’re going
The man told him I’m going to the place where I can
Be made fresh, clean, and meet the all-knowing
Oh yes, said the priest I’d say you’re ten percent there
Oh how can I be so far, that’s not what the map’s showing
This is uncharted territory my friend said the priest
Here is the one place where with land we are overflowing
You better rest now because tomorrow will be the longest

The man shuffled his papers in a random order
What have you been writing the priest asked him
Just a play sheepishly said the man, about a hoarder
He handed it to the priest who riffled through the papers
He looked closely at it and felt the paper border
And gave it back with a plaintive smile
So what do you think he asked the hoped - to be awarder
Oh, I’m sorry, the priest said I don’t speak good English

The priest discussed with the traveler various subjects
I don’t want to talk about religion today
It’s all I ever do from one day to the next
I’d quit this job but then I’d lose my donkey
And I’d sure miss the feel of those checks
But I’d be happy to give you all my opinions
I’m a little out of the loop what’s going on with Malcolm X
The man broke the news to the priest and got up

He began to move on, realizing that it was time
He climbed up the rocks and fell into a ditch
His teeth broken, his body now covered in slime
He could only get up, brush himself off
And focus on his goal of the changing paradigm
He had to find the next station rather quickly
Preferably before the church bells he left behind began to chime
His water was low, his stomach empty, and his spirit broken

He looked up in the distance and did not see his goal
Only another old building cursed with a steeple
When the clock reached zero it did not toll
But it was a landmark, a place to happily reach and enjoy
He pictured a kindly man tediously bending over a scroll
Happy to break his labor and help our young man
As the building got larger and larger it was hard to control
The excitement he felt for reaching a place of rest and solitude

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