Текст: Traffic. John Barleycorn Must Die. Stranger to Himself.

Struggling with confusion, disillusionment too
Can turn a man into a shadow, crying out from pain

Through his nightmare vision, he sees nothing, only well
Blind with the beggar's mind, he's but a stranger
He's but a stranger to himself

Suspended from a rope inside a bucket down a hole
His hands are torn and bloodied from the scratching at his soul

Through his nightmare vision, he sees nothing, only well
Blind with the beggar's mind, he's but a stranger
He's but a stranger to himself

Through his nightmare vision, he sees nothing, only well
Blind with the beggar's mind, he's but a stranger
He's but a stranger to himself