Weary and torn,
to slavery born,
while passionate thieves play the heavenly horn.

No rest for a burning heart.

Who are these strangers,
that sail in my land?
Why must I please them I don't understand.

No rest for a burning heart.

Who are these riders,
for right and for wrong,
who gave them horses and who made them strong?

No rest for a burning heart.

Like a desolate diamond,
you shine in my glance,
I'd bury my life to take part in your dance.

No rest for a burning heart.