Snake Oil Mountain

When father learned to sell a lie

I didn‘t think I‘d buy it

To tell a lie

As well as I

I peddle perfect product

A picture of a distant pass

And memories of mountains

Overpriced ephemera

From charlatans by trade

A touch of blue

An open eye

For better resolutions

Magnets with a Matterhorn

From china where they‘re made

We sold whatever you would buy

Back then, but you still do

There is no way to run and hide:

A souvenir or two

I bought a trinket yesteryear

It ages by the century

For every speck of dust, my dear

has filled my heart with envy