Lyrics: A church is burning. The flames rise higher. Like hands that are praying a-glow in the sky. Like hand that are praying the fire is saying, "You can burn down my churches, but I shall be free." Three hooded men through the backroads did creep, Torches in their hands while the village lies asleep, Down to the church where just hours before, Voices were singing and hands were beating, And saying, "I won't be a slave anymore." Three hooded man, thei (paul-simon.info)
