All that glows, ain´t so gold Pharaoh´s ghost Broken nose, they say they know Who really knows? Impossible Azure lows, ocean floors Escaping souls Murder crows, buzzard toes Trauma holds To fly Igbo, or to Jericho Home´s foreclosed Digging holes, mining souls Sludge to smoke Buried bone, extraction coal Takes its toll Texaco, melts the cold Now seasons old Roman roads, mislead me home (400 blows)