Impious visions that madly set me free To transgress The biding laws of god Driven by a lring melody I depart with haste from this poor world Down in a mine of which the walls Are made of stars and dead gods bones I spread my thoughts as black as soot Till prospecting all the trasures From one rebel to another Lost in a field in which the crops Have roots in lies and sordid plots I spread my seeds as wild as weed Till harvesting all the answers From one rebel to another When the time comes we will gather And break the spells of the demiurge Many a man, shall ride with me Who never had thought horns to see!
rebel, trasures, lring, prospecting, spread