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The
Man
Calmly,
Mournfully
Plays and sings
Thinks of the hard
Cruel days to come…
When his great cozy tents
Will be on fire and the White
Will taint the land he had cherished
Gone with the Hawks will roar to shake
Every ounce of dear land the white tread on
The mighty bow will be stretched to heavens to
Send an army of arrows to the white noble hearts
Fire, fire everywhere and the ashes dance and dwell
On every innocent child’s face who wonders with that
Sorrowful look upon the relics of his past and ruins of his future