We are a gang of wild yaks Our hoofs pounding the city paths Horns raised, hair flowing. If you haven't seen us scaling the walls If you cannot measure the size of our hearts If you cannot match the pounding of our hoofs, o self-righteous ones Just shut up! The roads have since changed. Do your prostrations. Appease your deities. But just shut up. We are a troop of stallions Galloping across the open pasture Unchained by trappings of the past. If you haven't seen us dashing up the mountain pass 'If you haven't seen us marching forward to future If you cannot walk with us for the long battle, o self-righteous ones Just shut up! Your world is no longer valid. Go to the temple. Burn a butter lamp. But just shut up.
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