The Mark of the Land


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

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