I wistfully wish for your monopedal embrace.
But I am just a fan
You are the father of humanity
And if you’ll be my man
I would give a rib to be your Eve
Hills are made for climbing and I’ll climb them all for you
Valleys you traverse I’m not averse to going down into
Wherever in your Eden you might travel I will follow.
And if a serpent with an apple entices me to swallow
I will not be tempted by the fruit the serpent offers
Though I’ve never been that great at resisting offers made by
Hills are made for climbing and oh boy I’ll do my best
But if the apple proves too sweet and shiny to resist
I swear that I’ll try not to choke as with my guilt I grapple
But if inside my throat I feel a lump, it’ll be my Adam’s Apple.