The Deserter - Both Audio and Text

The sun was burning fiery red, there were no clouds in sight, As we encroached upon their land to spark the bloody fight. The small, outnumbered band of Indians charged across the plain To die before they struck a blow, as bullets fell like rain. A full battalion strong, we’d come to confiscate their land, And when the dust had finally cleared, they lay there…on the sand. Their arrows and their tomahawks were conquered by - the gun, And as the bugle blew to sound retreat…and we had won… A badly wounded warrior’s dying comments found my ear. The sand around him red with blood…he clutched his feathered spear, And on the verge of death he cried, “I do not understand. For centuries my people farmed and hunted on this land, And now the white man comes with guns to take our land away, And steal from us the place for which we give our lives to stay.” Kneeling there beside him, in the burning crimson sand, I felt his spirit leave him, as I held his trembling hand. Fourteen hours later, I deserted from the force. And as I ride…a fugitive…with just my gun and horse… I will proudly tell my friends - and family - why I ran : To never again -- for a cause so wrong - have to kill a man!