I am the Cradle Land.
I am the heat,
The home,
The beating of the drums.
I am the wrath of the sun,
And the calling of home
Long left waiting.
I am the grasses,
Dried, yellow, and course,
That your feet long to recall.
From a time when you were nature,
Before you chose to be something different.
The myth and legend,
The hunt and the fire.
The days before you took the land
And made it modern.
I am the long sapphire nights
And the sweltering ruby dawns.
I am the primal,
The nest.
Lay witness to the change that changed all;
The mind that was born before mind existed.
I am the home of Man,
His footsteps still raw on my soil.
I am the Cradle Land.
I am the heat,
The home,
The beating of the drums.
The rhythm of your heart
And the memory,
Torn by time and change,
Stained by the line that you’ve drawn between you
And the world to which you belong.
The memory of a home
Left forgotten.
Left for knowledge and glory
For battle and conquest.

I am the Cradle Land.
I am the heat,
The home,
The rhythm of the soul.