many a hand has scaled the grand old face of the plateau
some belong to strangers and some to folks you know
holy ghosts and talk show hosts are planted in the sand
to beautify the foothills and shake the many hands
there's nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop
and an illustrated book about birds
you see a lot up there but don't be scared
who needs action when you got words
when you're finished with the mop then you can stop
and look at what you've done
the plateau's clean, no dirt to be seen
and the work it took was fun
well the many hands began to scan around for the next plateau
some said it was in greenland and some in mexico
some decided it was nowhere except for where they stood
but they were all just guesses, wouldn't help you if they could
This song is brilliant both melodically and lyrically. I think it's poetic genius, maybe because I can really relate to the lyrics and feel it captures a truth about existence. Basically it means: When the human race became evolved to a certain point, there was nothing except the plateaus and organic elements of nature. That is until our civilization built things and created roles in society to fill the void and nothingness. However, like the song says, there's nothing at the end of the pursuit except meaningless man-made artifacts (ie: "nothing on top but a bucket and a mop and an illustrated book about birds" which may be metaphors). It sounds depressing, but there is a silver lining: who needs physical things when you got words to communicate and create almost and truth you choose.