Tyrannical hours.

The old praise,
he turns his face
inside the valley of the shepherds.

In the siege; Debt
wander like the night
cover of a veil.

Tyrannical hours
hang on ropes;
the master of barley is absent.

Wrapped in the constant
Private freedom.

-Nobody knows your name ...

092d2fcb5a0afaf1085f574549d2a964.gif

Taken the road of flight,
between barks and teeth
nailed to their feet.

Therefore, the youngest of all
tie a tie to the neck,
before the idea of ​​the return to the original world.

Knotted to the tree; constituted slave
... will descend as a free man.

-Dear all:
I sing for myself, looking at your faces.

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