This man was great

"when he was taken back, his name was Rashamae

Soon to be known by many other names, he slowly found his way

Doing what all he knew, he saved a village from demise

His methods not unwise, he fed and housed all over many days

The people would say, rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

Not as old as you would think, his saving days are done

Retired at only 35, living for time and sun.

Ask him for his story, he will point to the sign

"climb the hill to see the story, slide the path to learn why"

The people would pray to rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

You climb the hill, the brown under green and tan

To the very top, a cliff over rocks below

The building still stands, a monument to the man

Made of wood and cloth that used to flow

The people would stay for rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

inside is cluttered but empty all the same

Once so finished, plaster and paint on steel

But now the color has faded, recently old

Peaceful, a plastic house on a hill so real

On the plague, it reads rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

Breathe in the sea air, hear the wind,

feel the crunch of paint chips under your shoe

Turn back, away from the recent falseness of this place

You sit and slide down the path, and the hill sings...

This man was a good man
He helped all his neighbours
Built a church and a hospital
And fed all the stray dogs and cats
He climbed this hill each day
To see the future in the crashing waves
This was how he saved our town

This hill is a testament
To climb it is naive
The hut on top is empty now
Except for tourists and thrill seekers
The cliff it caps is beautiful only
Hinting of danger

The plastic wood of the hut designed to look old,
But the finish has worn away,
Eventually trued the lie

If you ride the hill, it will sing you its song
And the hill sings...

This man was a good man
He helped all his neighbours
Built a church and a hospital
And fed all the stray dogs and cats
He climbed this hill each day
To see the future in the crashing waves
This was how he saved our town

Once I climbed the hill myself, and the conflict was so wild
Such a man like never lived, except he still hung out around town
Retired from his post as savior, his debt so much more than paid
He'll laugh if you ask for his story, the story is in the hill's path