He rode in town on a white horse. With nothing in his hands. He came to gather his people. And take them to his promised land. When he came he knew there would be bloodshed. But still no violence made his places. He came to fight in a battle. With no guns or money. But with his empty hands. With his empty hands. They said hey boy what you lookin' at. As they eyed his dreaded mane. He said my father has sent me. I've come back to reclaim. The children whose hearts. Were so whole and pure. Now it's you who'll die in pain. So they lynched the man. Who fooled the word. And all the children gathered. In his empty hands. In his empty hands.