A solar eclipse crosses the skies
And every armor show its blazon
Men who believe to fight for a greater intention

Bodies and bloodbaths
Bravery is the most valuable work
And all pay dearly to show

“Women, our poor slaves
Always disposed to a new function”

Sitting on top of the red stairway
Noble big eyes always observing

I’m the God, I am the air
And who challenges me, will be hanged
I’ll use my sons and blood to serve you

The whole earth produces a seed, a destiny, a dirt
And hunger exists in abundance
Take the ladies and leave to the flies
The chiming clock strikes three times
Far away we can hear the horses running to one more victory