'Til I found the guerrillas camped high in the hills
Down at the mission house each Friday night
I asked Comrade Diaz, whom I should kill
The stars that we follow can lead us astray
Heaven's salvation for those who know best
And entered the home of the Chief of Police
I fetched and I carried, I watched and I learned
In a firm of accountants as an office boy
I stood at his bedside and raised up my blade
I fled from the capital's bourgeois malaise
I said, "I'll not wallow in this house of shame"
And trekked through the wilderness for fourteen days
You murder tomorrow by killing today
I'll plough my own furrow, I'll go my own way
Why The Almighty's all merciful hand
Gravely I listened to Reverend McBride
Should cast away those whose only mistake
But then I discovered my colleagues one day
I crept into town with a knife in my teeth
And I went to the city where I was employed
Try as I might, I could not understand
I'll plough my own furrow, I'll go my own way
Then I looked to the crib where his little one lay
Massaging the figures for personal gain
Hell and damnation for all of the rest
And slowly but surely I rose through the firm
Was never to know the Christian faith
