They came with maps and hands like stone,
Laid iron down through flesh and bone.
The buffalo fell where the pistons sang,
And smoke replaced the eagle’s wing.

They paid us scraps and fed us lies,
The sun burned deep in foreign eyes.
Irish backs and Asian knees
Held up the dream of steel and greed.

Iron horses ride the land,
Crushing time beneath their hands.
No god to bless, no chief to cry –
Just fire and rails across the sky.

(The train approaches – not stopping, not caring.)

They carved through graves, through sacred ground,
The drums fell silent – not a sound.
Where once the herds would flood the plains,
Now only rust and echo reigns.

We built the spine of a hungry beast,
Fed it men and called it peace.

Iron horses, blind and bold –
Trade the future, sell the old.
Every mile a deal with fate,
Every spike a twist of hate.

Still they ride, still they roar –
But we don’t dance beside the tracks no more.