You're a red flag on a hill,
You're the one the'll never kill,
A mortal in the hands of the gods above.
You are the wind that blows
Great storms up at my door - oh, you.

You, who were born on battlelines,
Such sound and fury in your eyes,
Hear the horns that call you across the world.
You're the one who knows that
Truth is simply turning stone to gold.

The bow is strung, and you are aimed,
Now you're an arrow in the air.
A flaming drum, a roofless son,
The ends of earth are always the fires of home.
This you know.

Oh why am I left alone,
With swords in my heart,
With these empty arms?

Oh, why must you go?

Oh why am I fighting fate?
Is love a friend
Or rather a foe?
Who knows?

Is this the mission of your soul,
To be a traveller on the road?
To take a horse and gallop along the shore?
Pull on the reins, pull hard,
That saddle that you sit upon is for two.