We built this... on Rock n Roll Say you don't know me Or recognize my face Say you don't care who goes To that kind of place

I am a long deep breath carved by ice, A narrow blue path where mountains meet the sea. Cliffs rise beside me like silent walls, And water settles where the glacier once was. I am not a river, though I run through land, Nor simply an ocean, though salt fills my hand. What am I, so steep and so still in my place, A sea hidden between mountains and ice?

I'm the stuff of the desert, and there I often storm. I make up most beaches, and am quite fascinating to look at under a microscope.

I have a bed, but I never sleep. I have a mouth, but I never speak. I always run, but have no legs, Born in the hills from winter's dregs.

My elder scrapes the clouds. My younger kisses the plain. I stand between their stories. What am I?