Concrete walls surround the everlasting dream
Of the man who chose exile, mind filled to the brim.
Some men will bite the stone and some will chase the sky,
Some men will sleep until they're sober and some will pass you by.

Horses ready to retire
From the race around the tree.
Bridles and the cat of nine tails
Condemned to the sea.

I'm staring at the dime, until it's bloody red
And then I'll chop it into pieces to feed the masquerade.
It can't be hard to reach, across Boreas blow.
Let the wind bury the madness deep inside the snow.

Horses ready to retire
From the race around the tree.
Bridles and the cat of nine tails
Condemned to the sea.

I cannot give in,
I have to chase all that make me feel my own.

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