The old age of the peoples of divine origin,
and its forgotten truths,
the diamond mat,
towards the palm leaf,
through the radio I trembled,
and pay with the coin of curiosity,
in the supply of charas,
questioning masturbation,
to just listen,
a whisper of silver thread,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
we crawl without thinking,
on the back of the desert towards the caverns,
the footprints of the pilgrim will guide me,
my city was dead before birth,
Pure blood runaway,
I detest the lukewarm of vocation,
and they say that by force they hang,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
we crawl without thinking,
on the back of the desert towards the caverns,
the footprints of the pilgrim will guide me,
no other heaven on earth,
crosses the face to the yes and the no,
leaving condemnation and chains,
on the opposite side of reason,
and the pleasures of poverty have won,
to my mocked revolution,
and the pleasures of poverty have won,
to my mocked revolution,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
we crawl without thinking,
on the back of the desert towards the caverns,
the footprints of the pilgrim will guide me,
no other heaven on earth,
crosses the face to the yes and the no,
leaving condemnation and chains,
on the opposite side of reason.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)