No decadent with a crazy name.
On top of rocky hills he sets he gaze.
Upon streaks of golden rays his humility he sits for days rejects all praise.
And with piles of stones and some pretty feathers a handful of sand now he can predict the ether.
And the faces all want to know the hunt will show when the moon is low.
Stars they fall.
Fall upon an unknown son.
Waiting for the days he knows that just wont last.
His eyes are focused they set the schemes but let God make the trees
everything else is undetermined.
Should you take him away from here.
Will you please bring him back.
Cause the harvest will suffer his unfinished play
the children [bad word] old so bored if he does not stay does not stay.
Where was he from. Where did he go.
Now the tortured lives takes himself by surprise
found him on the cellar floor blood dripping from side
Stars they fall.
Fall upon an unknown son.
Waited for the days he knew that just wouldn't last.
His hands are folded in the shade he sleeps
Let god push the breeze everything else is undetermined.
As calm as the summer breeze he left with no apologies. Upon the hills through silhouettes
the cavalry can see everything.
Stars they fall.
Fall beneath a burning sun.
Lived through the days but how they ended so fast.
Cloaked in silence died with the schemes
they say god holds the keys everything else is.
Well never know. Never confess to it. 
The answers they all stay hidden.
No proof around. Untimely. 
Seems like a faded memory.