The stories I once heard, the vivid dreams I recall from when I was younger
pictured the giant hump where the grass met the sky, and the Earth met the Sun
I never got to see those hills, but still can picture them so clearly
I still hope to venture to them and experience more realism than in my made-up theory
I would gaze upon grass, where all I could see are butterflies
At night I would gaze upon the stars, though far too small to see with my bare eyes
The silence on the hill brought power, an unimaginable feeling of relief
Each day I grow more fascinated, about these infamous hills I one day hope to see
