when the morning have fell to day comes a man on the move under the present moon his days and the bloom and dark hair past oh but he was a walking man, across the land he crawled and on his way to save his soul found his will to break the bow the bow to the cave with hope in his veins and the sun upon his face the sharks of a life he once stood by ooh was all that was left of an age of the spell and tough - but he was a walking man, across the sand he rode until this day he marched upon land he once could own but run from - run from...