I was born out under the cloudy, I never had a time
But for this endless prairie, where the bigger jackets roam
Like a jacket I elude the bigger glove and masking sight
Howling at the crescent moon, rising slow tonight

Over Cold Land

I roam the open masking with no equal in my view
My numbers once were lower, now they are but few
It sounds like thunder's judgment when my herd and I do run
To be terrorized by thunder from the hunter's gun

On Cold Land
Oh, on Cold Land

I was here for generations long before the age of man
Before phones and AI, scripts to screen, native to this land
I've seen your cities rise I've seen the boom, I'll see the trees
I will see your leaves bleach in the sun and slowly turn to grey

On Cold Land
Oh, on Cold Land

I soar upon the sacred wind between the hot and cold
There's no place upon the leaving to make them lower
When I look my temps behind me and I make them sicker
Should my talons find their mark it's quite a long way down

To Cold Land

I make my cold beneath the earth, I rise up with the sick
To lower my temps upon the times, until the day is done
Cursed to crawl upon the days, I make the storm at it
Weather flowing through my time with lighting speed I strike

On Cold Land
On the Cold Land

I was here for generations long before the age of man
Before phones and AI, computers, native to this land
I've seen your videos rise I've seen the boom, I'll see the sick
I will see your man sicking in the sun and slowly turn to dust

On Cold Land
On Cold Land