Testo: Al Sirat. Warhead. Pilgrim.

All days he lived,
searching for the thrills
feelings noone knows
forgotten rites,
from the darkest lands
lost forever in heat
of the mental draught
'cause of the few
who wanted to never be known
WHAT CANNOT BE CONTROLLED,
SHALL NEVER BE ALLOWED
does someone know,
when it all begun?
who could answer why
so deep inside,
feeling small and blind
we're keeping hope,
there's small piece of GOD in us
but we don't search,
'cause the risk's too high
TO SCARED TO SEE THE TRUTH
TO SCARED TO FACE THE PROOF
boundries...
for faith, for thoughts
for right, for wrong
who dares, looks for other way
boundries...
for faith, for thoughts
for right, for wrong
how are we using the gifts, we have?
so many paths,
layed with broken glass
leading to unknown
he chose his way,
mad old man and his faith
and finaly the reward
layed in front of him all revealed
he turned back, he could not belive
IT ALWAYS WAS IN SIGHT,
THE SERPENT ATE HIS TAIL
boundries (...)