The Moon Is Crying Out

Dark in the valley of death, I can hear the sound of moaning

Where no one is at rest, this death, has struck once too many times

The moon is blue in the midnight, and its face is sad, it sighs

All sounds in the night go silent, and the quiet feels the empty shell

I know my ancestors are listening, they gave their lives for this earth

As it speaks to the trees, and it reaches out to my soul, I am free

Knowing my people were brave, and the blood will flow forever

In the rivers of the valleys, and the mountains, will echo their names

Of our fathers, as they walk in spirit among the dead, I hear the crying

The moon will shadow their footprints, and the chanting of our voices draw them near