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I leap toward the south yeah
And attempt to burn my bridges
Way down to the equator
And back up north with the wind
I'm travelin'
And the last I heard twelve sad stories
From disciples of the sun
And we rang the bell
And fired the gun
To worship the perfect and sometimes cruel
Impartiality of the sun
I leap toward the south yeah   And attempt to burn my bridges   Way down to the equator   And back up north with the wind   I'm travelin'   And the last I heard twelve sad stories   From disciples of the sun   And we rang the bell   And fired the gun   To worship the perfect and sometimes cruel   Impartiality of the sun
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