Carnival is what you dare,
Flesh farewell, the soul goes bare,
Your face is just a mask you wear,
But masks are hidden faces;
All night long from bar to bar,
The devil is a falling star,
He knows who you really are
And he walks in hidden places.
On the road, on the road, on the road
To Santiago:
The wind can howl, waters roar,
Night come down and your feet get sore,
We'll walk that wild Atlantic shore ...
And the devil walks behind us
On the road to Santiago.
This is what the devil sells:
Broken vows and broken spells,
Voices out of empty wells,
Fire in December;
Burning horses, burning trees,
Steps to climb up on your knees,
Missing days and missing keys,
Dreams you can't remember!
On the road, on the road, on the road
To Santiago:
The wind can howl, waters roar,
A priest goes dancing with a whore,
We'll walk that wild Atlantic shore
And the devil walks behind us
On the road to Santiago.
Holy bandits, band of hope,
Hauling an unholy rope
Halfway up the slippery slope:
That's where you'll find us.
We met the devil a-strolling round
On the midnight side of town
He said, "Halfway up? That's halfway down."
There's no need to remind us,
You don't need to remind us ...
On the road, on the road, on the road
To Santiago:
The wind can howl, waters roar,
A priest goes dancing with a whore,
We'll walk that wild Atlantic shore
And the devil walks behind us.
On the road, on the road, on the road
To Santiago:
The wind can howl, waters roar,
You won't be who you were before,
We'll walk that wild Atlantic shore ...
And the devil walks behind us
On the road to Santiago.
