The Long Walk
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Come dress your ranks, gallant souls, in a row
Kit Carson is waiting to crush the savage foe
At night, we march over lofty hills of snow
To first chastise, then civilize, Bold Johnny Navajo
Wolves of the mountains
Fallen world, devoid of majesty
At the frozen peak of Fortress Rock
Bitter cold, famished agony
The lurker at the threshold
To deliver them from strife
In their homeland, burning crops
Leaving scorched earth behind
He who seeks to deceive
Will find a willing participant
Fear preserves the deceiver
By the dread of punishment
They say there was a great roundup
And the Dinรฉ were ripped from their land
To be marched by the riders of judgement
Who destroy those who fail their demands