Who paints the line of the horizon?/Who dares to end my path?
Who dreamed up the finale, and impedes with all of thinking?/
There is no perfect setting/ For my infinite ideas/ 'Cause the
more my mind meanders/ The more heretical I seem/ And then
someone paints the horizon, And Dares to end my path/ Then
dreams of the finale/ While free-thought is caged once again.