in the land of fear the sun was dark and blotted out
there was war for years as the nation dried with drought
I was born into the blood and thirst, a child of death
in my vagrant heart I possessed the guile to kill and survive
so I run I hide, with empty hands
on and on I fly in search of a new land
I sense the fire but I still come running
the sound of your soft voice calling me
I am the orphan-born, my vision burning
my hands will work to build an empire divine
don't tell me, that I'm not worthy
the city refused me, I'm cold
the poor die
as far as I can tell
they freeze to death
in the realm of Ciel
but the lady welcomes me in, it's the warmth that I felt
o lady Constance, you saved me from hell
it's religious itself their purpose
but in the church of Dieu I'm a good person
I will work in the faith as a bishop of grace
and I serve myself, with hungry eyes
in the land of wealth, the rich will survive
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