So much clay to knead
In the bag, an illusion
In the head, a want
Gun and hate in hand
Seven keys to open
Seven doors, my brother
Odyssey without Uli
Biqueira, alley and bread
Take the stone to throw
On the moon that cannot be seen
Neither Saint George nor dragon
Vanity is an illusion
it is the ash on the threshold
it is the steel, it is the pain
He's a father, he's a brother
Gray feet, blood on the floor
One soul to win
Two souls to lose
Three souls that see each other £o
Four souls in the basement
Souls will say
Calm down with this trapdoor
Six souls to try
Seven souls say no o
Eight souls to suffer
Nine souls will narrate
That ten angels will die
All without weapons in their hands