brushing the night from my waking eye 
whispering, "this is a good day to die" 
day begins - so it begins 
racing the sun 'cross the morning sky 
never wondering, questioning why 
but a whipser, carried on the wind 

ancient in days - young in time 
the spirit of our ancestral lives 
willing to fight - to live and die 
for this is ours, this one new world 

so say what you will - you will 
I'm taking it all this time 
I'll be what I will I will 
it's an origin:  mine