Hidden from the city
An outpost, abandoned dry
Graffiti on the walls
I stand up, I try, to frame the sky at dusk
The river running through,
The bridge of cobblestone,
The lonesome strung-out croon
The whole world’s waiting
From the gaping canyons, high
to the European sundowns
As the mighty knights they cry:
Welcome to Toledo, brother
Welcome to the hall
We are but ghosts, old soldiers but our plight must carry on
Your shoes are torn
You’ve got no sword, you’re like a man without a name
Yet in the dark of your heart
Lies the family mark,
So we’re with you all the way
“Carry on, dear son,” I hear
“I am ever at your side.”
I take my shoes and ride in the night
‘Neath the stars of the Spanish skies
Ren Michael 