Of Cordoban Kings

When i was just a young man (eager for enemies)/i lead you into war/Moorish tears ran in tributaries/on Mediterranean virgin shores/sorry voices rose from salt-stung stone/death groans plumed anthems for Cordoba/i was your hero diplomat in rare white linen/my stallion's onyx mane in Gothic gold
 Old man, plead with your people/you're all alone, and it's time to go/into your garden grove
 I brought you back your schools and city streets/lost to my father and his before him/six decades have passed, now I long for retreat/i'm haunted by what I've not forgiven/give me your permission to return my sword/i was made by hammers of rage/i understand the complications of these days/it's innocence that never wants to change