The King of Sulaco

I’m the King of Sulaco

I’m a Knight of the Road,

yesterdays papers

are saving my soles.

There’s a coin in my pocket

from a country that’s gone:

not somewhere you’d go to,

but a place you’d come from.

The clothes in my knapsack,

they came from a corpse

My hair is by Anemoi,

like the mane of a horse.

The road is my plotline

it’s written in dust

and whatever the ending,

it’s all down to luck.

Look for me coming:

I’ll be riding the rails,

hiding from soldiers,

if the government's failed.

I’m the King of Sulaco

born to be wild:

if I’m on your doorstep,

watch for my smile.