No one knows anything,
not even what’s in our own hearts.
Our dreams and destructions watered
and grown by the light of a secret sun.
God doesn’t tell me what he tells you,
but I will follow what I hear in my secret heart,
because I must be true to what I feel imparted,
what comes in the place only He knows.
Out in Kentucky, out in the distant forests,
I leave on my motorbike to ride through the night,
to where I must go, to the struggle I must fight,
and leave you, to what you yourself must do.