Smoke rising up from the gate where they got her
To take her away from the face of her father
Bitter the break in the battles raging
To imitate all the saddle taken
Ain’t no trace of the place where they brought her

True to tell tale your throat’s on fire
Bones held kept with baling wire
Somewhere you were baiting the buyer

Desecrating the names of the gods of their fathers
Elevating the shame and profaning the water
Gravity guides every action downwards
Averting their eyes like a mindless coward
Innocents in the place of their power

True to tell tale your throat’s on fire
Bones held kept with baling wire
Somewhere you were baiting the buyer

Smoke rising up from the gate where they got her
To take her away from the face of her father
Bearing no trace of the place where they brought her