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LONE RANGER. (an outro)

Story of The Buffalo Soldiers

(Verse 1)
Dust devils dancin on the Huachuca plain,
Post-Civil ashes, chains broke but the pain remains.
Freed men forged in fire, 9th and 10th ride the line,
24th, 25th marchin through the devils spine.
Sierra Vista whispers, only fort that held em all,
From Reconstruction ghosts to the borders bitter call.
Sabers scarred from skirmishes with Apaches in the night,
Guardin stagecoaches loaded with white folks fright.
They called us Buffalo, thick-skinned, horns locked in fight,
But the stars on our shoulders weighed heavy as the slights.  (Chorus)
Oh, Buffalo Soldiers, ridin dark through the canyons maw,
Blood on the bridle, echoes of the lynch mobs law.
Fort Huachucas shadow, Sierras haunted ground,
We patrolled the frontier where the lost souls are found.
Henry Jones in the park, statue cracked by the years,
Museum walls weepin with the weight of our tears.
Dark country thunder, boom bap in the grave,
Heroes buried in the badlands, no parade, just the rave.  (Verse 2)
Spanish-American fever, shipped to Cubas hellish shore,
San Juan Hill stormin, bullets beggin for more.
Yellow fever fevers, dysenterys dirty kiss,
We charged for the flag that once sold us for this.
Back to the border, Mexicos ghost in the wire,
Smugglers and specters, razor dreams in the fire.
Patrols under moonlight, coyotes howlin our names,
Racisms rifle aimed from the barracks cold frames.
Officers orders, Boy, shine these spurs clean,
While we dreamed of the Delta, cotton fields turnin green.
But the desert dont care, it swallows the sin,
Buffalo bones bleachin where the wild winds begin.  (Chorus)
Oh, Buffalo Soldiers, ridin dark through the canyons maw,
Blood on the bridle, echoes of the lynch mobs law.
Fort Huachucas shadow, Sierras haunted ground,
We patrolled the frontier where the lost souls are found.
Henry Jones in the park, statue cracked by the years,
Museum walls weepin with the weight of our tears.
Dark country thunder, boom bap in the grave,
Heroes buried in the badlands, no parade, just the rave.  (Verse 3)
World War shadows creepin, from 17 to the end,
Tanks and trenches callin, but the Jim Crow dont bend.
We built the codebreakers code, signals in the sand,
While the homefront hanged us in effigy by their hand.
Henry Jones retired, boots worn to the bone,
Park named in his honor, but the thorns overgrown.
Sierra Vista stands tall on our sweat-soaked clay,
But the ghosts in the gallery got nothin to say.
Four regiments fury, etched in the canyons scar,
Forgotten warriors under a indifferent star.
We tamed the wild West, but it broke us inside,
Buffalo legacy, ridin eternal, no place to hide.  (Outro)
Fade out on the snare snap, bass rumblin low,
Huachucas horizon where the black rivers flow.
Sierras silent salute to the soldiers we were,
Dark country requiem, boom bap for the blur.
Buffalo... soldiers... gone but the thunder rolls on.

Buffalo Soldier

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