Onto the wild, unriven plain,
There came a stranger of uncertain name,
Just who he was we've yet to find,
'Cause he left only shadows behind.
Did he win a hero's crown,
Or are his deeds the sins that still now weigh us down,
And do the stains that lie across our lands,
Have their source in the blood on his hands.
And as the old men order up another round,
The questions once again rebound,
Through the nighttime they will argue and complain,
Though it's only shadows remain,
Only the shadows that remain.
Do our tales his goodness show,
Or are they but the flowers that from the gravesoil grow,
Are they dreams we ourselves designed,
Weaving them from the shadows left behind.
And what lies at the legend's core,
That which the shadows are now wrapping o'er,
Still I feel, if we could penetrate their shell,
There would be only shadows there as well
As if in a cave, I hear the songs of long ago,
Echo to silence down below,
Ever yet we thunder out the same refrain,
But we don't touch the shadows that remain,
It is still but the shadows that remain.
Onto our wild unriven plain,
There came a stranger, our blessing or our bane,
And which he was we've yet to find,
For he left only shadows behind,
He left only shadows behind.