You can move the mountains You can resurrection You can fists of your day to the blind eye of the world You can be a challenge in Khazon You can bridge the sky You can build a colorful ceiling Singing your song The voice of the tribe, you complain about the magic night The last bucket of silence, can you sing in the mirror You can shade your shadow You can make the starless night You can resonate with a song
With a hundred iron locks If this sacred soil is your eye If the last valve, in your singing The tribes voice, you follow the magic night
