In bleeding wounds will heal Unlike some which are too deep to see Like scars in the Nomads soul Their is so slow Not a shout of a hundred enemies Can make him feel fear inside him But when sunsets and the arrives With solitude in the darkness of night
He will ride across land and time To find way through this endless night There s a storm in his heart And the fire burns his soul But the wanderers part is to alone
With bare hands he has many lives He has had a hundred women by his side From enchanted woods to freezing North He is known at every and far beyond As the moon grows and the circle is complete He lies down and waits for sleep But always a scenery in his mind. Of all that beauty he once left behind