Secret Culture Letra

The harvest of fortune is near No choice, no voice - to describe These signs are simply and clear For the destiny of my tribe i have seen some clouds of dust coloured in blanket grey ive seen the unexepted trust in my possible delay I?m a merchant with souls I deal with their faith Their response is my goal This calling makes my grace I?m the medicine man I?m the medicine man ... Their confidence was never more Than in this confused times They would be disappointed in me If I don?t save them from decline I took some boundaries of time The wheel runs on high speed I?m the fighter against the crime My decision is to lead I?m a merchant with souls I deal with their faith Their response is my goal This calling makes my grace I?m the medicine manc I?m the medicine man