Darkened clouds rolling over the valley, spark the resting flame,

Earth has come to claim her country, screaming out for rain

Thunder’s fist on a battle drum pounding summoning the lightening strike

One by one, her army gathered waiting for the first light

Don’t know when the wind will turn

And 82 Fires still burn

Raised 2 boys off the land of my fathers, tended crops in the fertile fields Trough drought, flood, frost and fire we only took what the land could yield

We heard old tales of 82 fires – how smoke turned day to night

Legends told there would come a time they’d return with all their might

The clearing is quiet, the air’s been taken to the furnace over the rise

The last red sun has been shrouded by the smoke that stings our eyes

We always knew on this land we would live and die

Here we stand among the 82 fires and speak our breathless goodbye