The sun is dying In a sea of burning clouds The last sunset in the sky of fathers Goodbye my brother horse Here I set you free There are no prairies to run Where I will go Even the eagle knows When its time to fly away To the highest peak And close its eyes forever Even the river knows When it is time to fall In the roary ocean And end its run forever Even Goyatla knows There will be no more battles I was born on the prairies where The wind blew free and there was nothing To break the light of the sun I was born where there were no enclosures The sacred circle is now broken The rifle lies in the dust Dropped by a tired hand Face of stone Sculptured by the wind Mirror eyes A vision of the end Mystic mind The cry of the land But the battle you fought Was the last
prairie, goyatla, roary, even, enclosure