Catch me this morning
my head is undone.
Curse my eyes
and cut out my tongue.

The hunger of man
for blood and the gun.
A pox on you
and a pox on your sons.

Is this how the west was won?

Sons and daughters
with no light to follow.
Where rivers ran deep
all now is shallow.

From the valley of tears
to the mountain of sorrow.
No turning the tide
no past in tomorrow.

Is this how the west was won?

You piss down their backs
and tell them it's rain,
but they've seen your faces
they know who to blame.

You burn all the books
and change all the names,
but the spirit lives on
it won't go away.

Is this how the west was won?

Do I have enough years
to understand if I can.
Why another should bury
your language and land?

Cold the heart
and savage the hand.
That takes from another
what he can't understand.

Is this how the west was won?

Composição: Brian Betts / Kevin Weatherill