Listen, can you hear the wind of a falling star. Daylight, a raging sun through the trees beats down. Into the night ride the cold and fearless unto the culture of aimless nomads. Careless free will, learned through ancestral teachings. Wakened by spirits, redmen long ago.

Foreign hands, ignorance and greed. Birds of a feather now are scattered but their hearts still beat as one. Integrate whiteman, hold out your hands. Let our bloods unite us all as one.

Picture a headdress sewn through the sands of time. Captured upon my head shines it's radiance. Quiet they listen for distant ground thunder. Keen senses all an in'jun must use. Blessed is he who can live off the cold baron wastelands. Waken thy spirits redman, it's you will.

What are they, heroes or villains. Birds of a feather why can't we all pass the pipe, dance through the nigh. Across this great divide we learned you are the wise. Together we shall dance and the rains will cleanse us all.