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Lines of Rhymes

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Gold Ships

 Superstition is a flaw to be exploited 
Thought the starsailors from the east 
Taken to the city in the great lake 
That was the end of its prosperity and peace 

Up to the snowlines people driven 
The condor man stripped of wings to fly 
Disease of slavery below them 
Above them cold indifference of the sky 

Gold ships leaving 
Ships appearing 
Temples of the sun 
They're low in the water 
Strict to the order 
With many more to come 
(Better run) 

Made to speak a different language 
Worship one so alien to their ways 
Living with mind and soul pollution 
No spirit wind could blow it away 

Gold ships leaving 
Ships appearing 
They're working every tide 
Warrior people 
Not church and steeple 
Their eyes burning wild 
(Burning wild) 

Superstition is a flaw to be exploited 
Thought the starsailors from the east 
Taken to the city in the great lake 
That was the end of its prosperity and peace 

Gold ships leaving 
Ships appearing 
Temples of the sun 
They're low in the water 
Strict to the order 
With many more to come 

Gold ships leaving 
Ships appearing 
They're working every tide 
Warrior people 
Not church and steeple 
Their eyes burning wild 
(Burning wild)

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