Like unto him, the preacher said
I heard a whisper, turned my head
And listened to a distant song
A piper at the gates of dawn

So savage is the rising sun
That stills the lonely piper's song
And forces wide the tortured eyes
The witnesses where all things die

And onward Christian soldiers surge
So many heathen souls to purge
Who churn to dust their neighbor's sod
And claim it in the name of God

While through the night the fires burn
The tables that will never turn
The innocents, now driven out
Will harvest all those seeds of doubt

The holy warrior kneels in prayer
With crimson stains in matted hair
He begs the night to take his fears
And bury them in brighter years