Mister Mole Man

I feel like Mr. Moleman, coming up to spy. What the world has wrought with his by and by Should it be wondrous? Would it be greed? Could it be something that we all might need? Fresh out of the forest, the light it hurts our eyes. Can we see ourselves from a precipice on high? Should it be regress? Could we shine? Or would we fight amongst ourselves because we're blind? Ah, Mr. Moleman Mr. Moleman can you find a light that shines? Stormy weather sends him back inside. His warm and sandy hole down on the southern side Will he visit us again? Will we see the light that's kept from him? Ah, Mr. Moleman Mr. Moleman Mr. Moleman can you find a light that shines?