In the woods of ancient ruins
a wizard lives and teaches
a young boy called Arthur
The pine didn't use to have a name
it exists by simply standing there
as an exchange of kindness
it shows its beauty and you show respect
Rising my sword, through the power of love
two different tribes got together
however, the ideals get profane
by landing on reality
Crimson gloves draw curved lines
with your majesty's scepter
silver from Argentina, gold from Brasil, stones from Africa
for the crown and God's will
Hey George! Your son grew up
And now he controls the world
with the eye of providence
Suffer of many
By the hands of few
We are all guilty for the obedience
From father to son, year after year
the biggest of the empires builds it self
where the divine commands
and not a human being anymore
Crimson gloves draw curved lines
with your majesty's scepter
Silver from Argentina, gold from Brazil, stones from Africa
Who share the power of knowledge, is called insane
Erik Schnabel
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