The sky’s getting dark again,
young man.
Best get your rifle,
or your bow.
It’ s time to head to the hills again,
young man.
Up into the mountains
we must go.
‘Cause the beasts that we seek
don’t like it much
down low,
this much I know.
We’re taking the high ground
and hunting this game.
A dangerous sort,
by reputation and name.
It’s killed more men
than have ever been able
to lay claim.
We’re headed up
into the hills
to bring peace
just the same.
There’s mist on the trees
young man.
We’re climbing up
much higher than them.
Look down in the valley
and how the land bends,
watch the slope on the tree line
that our quarry defends.
We’ll move in the dark,
until we can be sure
he’ll meet his end.
This high up,
it’ s just eagles
and God
to see us,
my friend.
Once we’ve made our kill,
young man,
we’ll venture on down.
Telling tales of the hills
and the trees
to the people in town.
They won’t understand,
but that won’t make us less proud.
We’ve got blood on our hands,
and the mark of the land
on us, now.
HG – 2020
