In this drought of truth and invention.
The motorway won't take a horse.
The wanderer has found a course to follow,
The traveller unpacked his bags for the last time,
The troubadour cut off his hand and now he wants mine
Not me, oh no!
The circus girl fell off her horse and now she's paralyzed.
The hitchhiker was bound and gagged,
Raped on the roadside.
The libertine is locked in jail.
The pirate sunk and broke his sail.
But I still have to go,
I've got to go, so here I go.
I'm going to run the risk of being free!
The magicians' secrets all revealed,
And the preachers lies are all concealed.
And all our heroes lack any conviction,
They shout through the bars of cliche and addiction,
So I've got to go
I've got to go, so here I go
I'm going to run the risk of being free
And in this drought of truth and invention,
Whoever shouts the loudest gets the most attention.
So we pass the mic and
So we pass the mic and they've got nothing to say, except
«Bow down, bow down, bow down to your God!»
Then we hit the floor
And make ourselves as idols to bow before.
Well, I can't
And won't bow down anymore.
In this drought of truth and invention
I can't and I won't bow down anymore
I run, run the risk of being free
Hey!