Like convicts who went this way before
Sometimes I see...
Along the way marked with furrows, I go
Like convicts who went this way before
Sometimes I see their martyred souls
The path ends and there is nothing in here, nothing in here
Only ground that cries with their suffering
The path ends and there is nothing in here
Only ground that cries with their suffering
The path ends and there is nothing in here
Only ground that cries with their suffering
Seeking the answer in footprints, I go
They fulfilled their fate, innocent, thrilled
Sometimes I see their faces in a mist
This place and this land and either destiny
I touch the flames, I regret, I'm sorry
This place and this land and either destiny
I touch the flames, I regret, I'm sorry
This place and this land and either destiny
I touch the flames, I regret, I'm sorry
