Riders
Celso Pecuraro
Riders, on this road
Marching for the darkness
The flight is closer, than it seems
Listen, the sound of freedom
That it comes from the clouds
Close to, the forgiveness, of your sins
Look at your side
See distrust and fear
Turn to the right
Break the old gear
Look at front of you
Unfold this paper
This is your account
It would be pays later
But somebody already paid