[Intro]
Smoke over San Carlos,
Dust upon the bread,
A thousand living shadows
Walking with the dead.

[Verse]
They brought us where the river failed,
Where fever kissed the ground,
Where every day was counted
By a soldier walking round.
No hunting on the old trails,
No riding with the dawn,
Only fences, hunger, silence,
And the names of those gone.

[Pre-Chorus]
How can a hawk remember flying
When its wings are tied in straw?
How can a people born of mountains
Live beneath another’s law?

[Chorus]
Smoke over San Carlos, ashes in the sun,
They said the war was over, but the dying had begun.
Hold your heart through sorrow, hold your children close,
Smoke over San Carlos, where the bitter wind blows.

[Verse]
The young grew thin and restless,
The old looked toward the west,
Mothers traded tears for rations,
Fathers buried all the rest.
I watched the soldiers laughing,
I watched our fires grow small,
And I felt the canyon calling
Like a drum beyond the wall.

[Pre-Chorus]
There are prisons made of timber,
There are prisons made of lies,
But the worst are made of waiting
While the free wind passes by.

[Chorus]
Smoke over San Carlos, ashes in the sun,
They said the war was over, but the dying had begun.
Hold your heart through sorrow, hold your children close,
Smoke over San Carlos, where the bitter wind blows.

[Instrumental]
Slow drums, crying strings,
Low choir with broken wings.

[Bridge]
If this is peace, then peace is hunger.
If this is mercy, mercy dies.
If this is law, then law is thunder
Breaking through a captive sky.

[Breakdown]
I will not rot here.
I will not fade.
The night still knows me.
The trail is made.

[Build-up]
From the fence, from the pain,
We will ride through dust again.

[Chorus]
Smoke over San Carlos, ashes in the sun,
They said the war was over, but the dying had begun.
Hold your heart through sorrow, hold your children close,
Smoke over San Carlos, where the bitter wind blows.

[Chorus]
Smoke over San Carlos, hear the hidden drum,
When the guards are sleeping, we will rise and run.
Past the wire of sorrow, past the broken posts,
Smoke over San Carlos will not own our ghosts.

[Outro]
Smoke over San Carlos,
Dust upon the bread,
A thousand living shadows
Refusing to be dead.
