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When he was a boy of ten, he never thought that he would be
The kind of man who saves the town or one day brings it to its knees
The kind of man who no one knows, whose name is known across the land
When he was a boy of ten, he wasn't yet that sort of man

When he was a man of twenty, he left his wife for the open land
She looked at him with ancient eyes he never dared to understand
Later on, he recognized the look she gave him on that day
But when he was a man of twenty, he bowed his head and rode away

When he was a man of thirty, he took his gallop for his heart
And at the lowering of his body, they said he rode dead for a mile
The women cried and crossed themselves, said he was a wilful child
Preacher said, ‘From innocence not every man can be apart'

That's why he left his family early
And died so young a man of thirty
Always passing through the souls of others
To clean the one he thought he dirtied

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