The tribe is moving through the desert in the cool of the night
Needing to be encamped and hidden before dawn's first light
The scouts are out ahead looking for signs of any well
We need more water before dawn's coming searing hell
The Pacification Corps are searching to put us back inside
Their camps, so life just now is walk and walk and hide.
At least they don't kill us or twist in the knife
Extracting their tolls for the necessities of life
Like the Water Lords, with their neural fences
Unwittingly touch and they scramble your senses
Life is more than sitting there safe in their captivity
We all have our rights, our need, to move, and be free
They say this land was cool and fertile green and nice
Before the old desert spread with the melting of the ice
So we search for our water, always on the run
From our fellow man and the hell of the sun
Our tribe never ever forgets to pray
For an easier life at some future day
