We've got a myriad complications
We've got a pound of hateful lies
We've got a file full of facts and figures of the failures in our life
And the mountain it looms before me
And the summit it glares at me
But we'll rise to the top and if it don't stop staring,
I'm going to kick it in the teeth.

What's carried in the air that it should smell so sweetly?
If I said that any else compared, you would hardly believe me

Well at last we're together
And we're finally on top
I want to stay here forever
We'll never stop

You've got a couple of second cousins
You've got a couple of grandpas too
They've got a couple of cheeks
A couple times gonna get a couple kisses from you
But now seven is sacred
And soft, subtly scented
And we sit safely chaperoned to share several seconds in silence
Shall we make it so?