You sit and think that everything is coming up roses
but you can't see the weeds that entangle your feet.
You can't see the wood for the trees cos the forest is burning
and you say it's the smoke in your eyes that's making you cry.
They sold you a view from the hill.
They told you that the view from the hill would be
further than you'd ever seen before.
They sold you a view from the hill.
They sold you a view from the hill.
You were a dancer and a chancer, a poet and a fool
to the royalty of mayhem you were breaking all the rules.
Your decadence outstanding, your hopes flying high.
One eye looking over your shoulder, one on the hill.
You used to say you were scared of heights - you said you got dizzy.
You said you didn't like your feet being to high off the ground,
but they said that up there you'd find the air would be clearer
promised you more space to move and more room to breath.