Sometimes people sense the high, The energy that lights your way, And driven by a shadowed eye, They seek to dim your bright display. They dream of heights but miss the rungs, Of ladders built with sweat and tears, Their shortcuts leave them high-strung,
Sometimes people sense the high
Sometimes people sense the high
Sometimes people sense the high
Sometimes people sense the high, The energy that lights your way, And driven by a shadowed eye, They seek to dim your bright display. They dream of heights but miss the rungs, Of ladders built with sweat and tears, Their shortcuts leave them high-strung,