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Told is the weakest hand that prays, my friend
Behold, the sharpest of the blades, till the end
As for she, the guardian of the truth you seek
And for he, the wildest of the minds, you believe

No, no, no cast the stone of fools
No, no, no hang the priest in rule
And go, go, go poison the well of men
And go, understand, and know that you'll live again

You'll hope that you'll find some peace of mind
What I leave here behind will be the last one to die
No, where you go, I shall never know
And your creed and your life will be cast aside

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