1. ANIMAL CROWN

The skin cloaked savage
A corpse adorned - animal crown
King of the badlands
Flint and powder, tooth and claw -
Beasts on beasts back and death the law
The packs encircling its sister flesh -
Animal crown drifts from corpse to corpse
Leaders and lords, tribes and packs
The soil swallows crowned and crippled the same


2. ON HORSEBACK THEY CARRIED THUNDER

A break in the sky
The horizon bled above - the dream was real
The storm gathered
The night rode on hellbound hooves
With vengeance in the saddle
A cracked whip
A grinding maw;
A starved-eye stare and the weight of storms
No tomorrow!
Only the trail - horseback
Galloping to the pulse of the world
The thunder, the storms
A vengeance for the world's blood
A tower of flesh and bone -
Only blood for blood will satе the storm
At night they came
And brought with thеm thunder
A warcry for what was lost
At night they rode against oblivion
For a time that all forgot


3. THE CROWS AHEAD CRY WAR

Dusk
A primal vibrant red;
Violent
Clouds, seeping color - the crows cry out war
The plains, they tremble - anxious, the night brings blood
The cold bitter night, awaiting flame and fury
Swift like the night, the riders descend
The braves circle around;
Torches to the night, arrows to the dawn
The smoke marks an early grave, it rises with the sun


4. THE DREAMING PLAIN

Rivers in the sky, a drifting cosmic quiet
Dry fields infertile, dying grass on bitter bone
A bastard, fostered patch of earth -
The night in calm resignation as smoke meets the sky
Dreaming in waves, bleeding hallucinations
My veins extend, my blood is in the stars
The plains have not forgotten - the bitter winds forever tell
It rises red at dawn, and falls cold with the night
Carried through clouds, the great expanse
Displaced, my eyes need not see
Sky is all, separating. Land is lost, only away


5. A NATION OF IMMIGRANTS

Dust storm is clearing, the old familiar dream
I wave my seeing hand, asleep again on haunted land
Rode in on iron horses, their hooves that crack the ground
We water them in creeks of blood; no richer oil have we found. Hear the ghosts of the west - they burn them traincars down
As peddlers we trade in death;
Blood and gunpowder for a crooked crown
A nation, on no man's land;
No nation, on graves will stand
A nation, will be thy end
No nation, for cursed men