Lyrics Running Wild - The Ghost

The Ghost (T.E.Lawrence)
Музыка: Rolf Kasparek
Текст: Rolf Kasparek

(INTRO)

Born in England, religious raised.
A hazy dream - the world to face.
Indifferent to joy and pain.
No measuring, neverending games.

PRECHORUS:
Ride.
Only ride
on the wings
of the desert storm (and your)
Pride.
Burning pride
its hunger's fed when yourself is gone.

He tried to join the army then.
He was denied - they had too much men.
He studied then the ancient times,
digging up relics and signs.

PRECHORUS:
Ride.
Only ride
on the wings
of the desert storm (and your)
Pride.
Burning pride
its hunger's fed when yourself is gone.

Karkemish was where it all began.
He joined in armies' service then.
The Suez-Channel was to defend.
The Turkish force had to be banned.

PRECHORUS:
Ride.
Only ride
on the wings
of the desert storm (and your)
Pride.
Burning pride
its hunger's fed when yourself is gone.

CHORUS:
The ghost, the gallant rider
on the edge of the desert storm.
A miracle written in the sand.
The desert plains for eternity.

Feisal was the only chance
to join the tribes to cross Turkish plans.
Aqaba was the mighty key
to end the siege to make them free.

PRECHORUS:
Ride.
Only ride
on the wings
of the desert storm (and your)
Pride.
Burning pride
its hunger's fed when yourself is gone.

CHORUS:
The ghost, the gallant rider
on the edge of the desert storm.
A miracle written in the sand.
The desert plains for eternity.

"I will go if you will go
to cross the deadly plains.
I am here, the world to show
what you are able to face"

(SOLO)

The sand is grinding the face.
Dust is clouding their trace.

(SOLO)

The sun burns out their mind.
Slowly like the sand rules the time.
Wing of dark, vultures fly.
The wind, the last battle cry:
"Aqaba!"

(SOLO)

He lived his life of tragedy
without a home, no place to flee.
Distracted soul caught in its trace
from the start without a chance.
He tried to free Arabia
from its siege, but he'd gone too far.
He paid his price on the desert plains.
He'd lost his soul, he'd lost his trace.

PRECHORUS:
Ride.
Only ride
on the wings
of the desert storm (and your)
Pride.
Burning pride
its hunger's fed when yourself is gone.

CHORUS:
The ghost, the gallant rider
on the edge of the desert storm.
A miracle written in the sand.
The desert plains for eternity.
The ghost, the gallant soldier.
A splitted soul gone with the wind.
His mind was bound to the Western world.
His heart belongs to the desert plains eternally!

(SOLO)

(OUTRO)