Ride, Lancers of the Christ O! Ride,
Against the vengeful tide.
Ride through the meadow and green fields,
Against the host of the enemy.
We are in the middle of hell,
That has cracked open like a shell.
And war has come ; the rivers shall run red
When the victors stand in the field of the dead.
Sing under your musky breath,
As you face death and do not hide.
Sing under your musky breath,
As you fight for honor and pride.
Let the hooves of your stallion ring,
Let your Silver lances sweetly sing,
And cut into soft flesh and hard bones.
Aye! Break their spirit against the stones.
©Okunola Peace.
