There was a man in my dream saying ?listen;
You are a child of a wandering kind and
Now I hold my breath
when they say I?m blessed
I?m dropping wax in the mid of my palms now
Open up, feel the wound, pour the salt
I?m wearing guns on the back of my feet now
Learning sounds pressing hard to the ground
And I hold my breath
when they say I?m blessed
I?m dropping wax in the mid of my palms now
Open up, feel the wound, pour the salt
Can?t they see I?m all alone
This road is now my home
I?m dropping wax in the mid of my palms now
Open up, feel the wound, pour the salt