This is the road, I call, I say it so,
The road not built, not toiled, the greens verdant,
The greens brambled with spite, venom, and trial,
Greens so thick, the light cannot be seen,
Greens so deep, the air cannot be breathed,
But I smile so,
I take the axe and hoe, the rock and stone,
With sweat and bone, though still alone I smile,
Because this is the road, I say it so,
The road yet built, the road not grained,
But engrained in my eyes, I dig with tools,
The sweat raining as I swing,
But I smile so,
I take this axe and hoe, the ground-up stone,
The rain that falls from clouded aether skies,
I know that some would fall and cry, and yet,
Though the sights I pass are grand, and yet,
Though the toil takes its turn to wear,
And yet, Within all of this, and yet
With sweat and bone, though still alone I smile,
Because This is the road, I say it so,
The road now built, to guide me home,
To guide all home that seek the warmth from cold,
To lead the weary wander to their gold,
To guide those lost with heart and heavy soul,
This is the road, I call, I say it so,
The road now built, unspoiled, the greens verdant,
The greens gilded with warmth, Philter, and triumph,
Greens so bowed, the light is always seen,
Greens so deep, signs for lands to see,
This is the road, I rest, I sleep, I go
This is the road, I call, I say it so,
This is the road, I walk, and though,
The dawn now sets upon my road,
I smile so.
