I wasn't taught to love the moon
I never read it in books
Yes, the sun seem like home to me
and the moon, just an object that projected light on my tired roof
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.