And now I am hanging here, eight feet high, six feet tall. I was hanged for the things I’ve done, I sold my soul for the gold.
I came here to fulfill all the dreams that I had. I was a poor bastard back at home, so I sailed here to the promise land.
Don’t cry my Oriana! You know I won’t come back Until I find some gold, a pocketful, I promise you that.
I saw him digging one day, he was alone at the heights. I knew for sure he had it, I could see it in his eyes.
I smashed his face, oh I smashed his face with a rock in my hand. Killing was so easy, now he’s buried in the wasteland.
Don’t cry my Oriana…
A stranger came to me one day, he was just an old fool. He came here many years ago, but he couldn’t find any gold.
‘I can see it in your eyes’ he said. ‘I know what you got in your hand.’ I drowned him in the river that night, now he’s floating through the promise land.