Do you know how I feel deep down this hill?

Do you know how I feel deep down this hill?

Do you know?

Empty on the inside, but gold on the outside.

Rough as a stone and gloomy as the dark.

Angry as a bull, as depressed as a koala.

I sleep but do not rest.

What is this? Can you tell me?

A bad storm or crazy weather,

Punching me more and more.

Bright for a moment, then some light,

Then dark—pitch night.

What is this? Can you tell me?

There I am, one more time, up the hill.

The more I know, the more, I fear.

Feeling small in the cold breeze.

There I am, alone, losing my way home…