The traveler looks at the road ahead,
He has walked far and needs to rest his head.
The roads he has walked have been treacherous,
Filled with evils deadly and very dangerous.
On his travels through this chaotic life,
He has loved and lost his family and wife.
On his travels, on this path, he walks,
He has been watched by his enemies like hawks.
The mountain mists are rising,
The mountain mists are shifting and rising.
He can hear his destiny and his future calling,
As the mountain mists keep rising and rising.
The traveler knows that there is a new world,
One filled with fame, the fortune of rubies and pearls.
The road ahead looks dark and the forests look deep,
He must rest his weary head and find a place to sleep.
He finds a clearing in the forest of the whispering trees,
He makes his bed out of all the fallen yellow leaves.
In his dreams he sees the new world he must discover,
He knows that within him lie talents he will uncover.
At dawn, he awakes to hear the birds and the bees,
Heralding a new beginning on the pathway through the trees.
The mountain mists are rising,
The mountain mists are shifting and rising.
He can hear his destiny and his future calling,
As the mountain mists keep rising and rising.
Like the traveler we all journey through this life,
Overcoming our troubles of all types as we strive.
We have moments of failures and of glory,
Yet, we must keep walking to complete our story.
The roads we travel and the paths we need to walk,
Open up our minds and our hearts, as we write and talk.
We do not always find fame, fortune, and glory,
Yet, we keep writing new chapters in our story.
The mountain mists are rising,
The mountain mists are shifting and rising.
You can hear your destiny and your future calling,
As the mountain mists keep rising and rising.