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Bukahara
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Makda
They're trembling and shouting with eyes turned white
to the beat of drums
They're stretching their arms to point at the sky
where Makda hears their cries
And slowly they are rising to the stars
years of battles and wars
and they're still dancing wild
And behind the hills she's still hiding
her soul is as old as the rain
And the tales are maybe forgotten
and so are her thousands of names
but her greatness still remains
Inside the cicle horns are burnt
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the flames light up the night
They're chanting the name of the one who gave birth
to the sun, the moon and the stars
And the wind is singing lonely from afar
The flood washed away their temples and graves
but somewhere they're still praying
And behind the hills she's still hiding
her soul is as old as the rain
And the tales are maybe forgotten
and so are her thousands of names
but her greatness still remains
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