Cursed with a warrior soul am I
curse or a blessing it may be

I have seen the coupes on the fields of Gall
picked clean by the women there, the battle they do follow

Their baskets full with treasures these men left behind
treasures mean nothing now
For the warrior’s soul has gone away

I have walked though many times
and have returned again to learn my way

At the hand of battle, many a death I have died
still the lust runs deep and clear

The sound the sword makes as it rings metal to metal
the sound of the Gatling as the chopper comes in low
they make my blood run hot

These make the chills run up my spine more than most women I've ever known

I see the hunters moon and the memories of the soul cry out
the soul remembers the moons help with shadows in to hide

I have died by the sword and by the bullet and returned
but never as a coward crawls by my own hand

I have seen men fall upon their sword but a coward’s lot they have
For they that take their lives, fear the fear of battle most

So return they must thrice to face themselves the next time around
until the fear that destroyed them they have moved beyond,
This lesson they have come to learn

Lonesome is the warrior soul

Beyond the point of lonesome I have moved
to the place from which I thought I could not return

Then a lesson I did learn

It is I the warrior soul that must reach out
to touch the things that care

My own feelings my thoughts my lonesomeness
is a making of but my own

It is I who must reach out
It is I who control my destiny and my desires
It is I who must pick up the sword of battle and move forward

For if I wait for others I will but sit in the darkness of my own pity and despair

I have seen the death of battle from Gall to Scotland to Asia
I have listened to men cry out as they died

But on every field of battle there is beauty
At Gall the wild yellow rose I came upon with the new blooms
a promise of life continuing and love and hope

I walked home in Scotland, a missing arm and eye
but I stopped to smell the honeysuckle and see the green of the new spring grass, I am lucky many will never come this way again

Viet Nam a warrior stops to help a small child
the child smiles, that’s all the thanks the warrior needs
The beauty is in the warriors heart and the smile of the child

This life I think has passed the warrior stage
how I got here I don't know, I was meant to die along the way

Some lessons I must have learned to find gray hair upon my head
My body still shows the signs of battle long past

The place the skin is white and the hair won't grow
It's just a reminder of the African desert campaign

The red mole shaped like a saber wound
just something that came from Scotland long past

I am learning to be humble (not the warrior's lot)
For I remember Russia and the party of the Zar

An officer I was, blue and red uniform all pressed and proper
To the Lady I did brag, I would kill them all

And in short order be home to court her
Brag I should not have done, a bullet in my knee I did receive

I lay there in the Russian winter and froze to death
I hope the Lady shed a tear

I am In the Alps I have a small home and family
I walk home after the battle lost, my only treasure my family waiting there

Gone is my home it is gone as is my family to where I do not know
I sit on the rocks of my yard and cry

The warrior soul learns many things
Battle being only one

The warrior soul grabs and holds tight to all
It must last to the very end, never giving in or up

I have seen the young in battle fall and return too soon
to but another battle fight, no lessons have they learned

The dark rain that falls on the field of battle
are but the tears of the warrior whose lesson has been lost

The hunter’s moon is in the sky my blood it does make run wild
The streets of Berlin I find myself it's 1941

The Lady I meet is of the moment a single night but for to spend
The lure of the moon the lust of the night does a passion make to bloom

A quick kind of love does blossom now for to battle I am bound
An officer in the German army I am and to Africa I must to go

A kiss, a wave and off I go, a promise to return
But my mind is on my wife and child in a protected home they do reside, it is to them I must return

I sit upon the sandy hill, to look upon the death below
I walk down to help the pour souls there

But before me do I lay, dead not dying, the shell exploded and took us all, no more to live today

A lesson I did learn that day, to hold to love with all you can
for it may soon be taken away

Grasp and hold every second so it doesn't fly away
For what moment in time do we have but now

For yesterday is gone and tomorrow is yet to come

Many times have come and gone my warriors’ memories are near
The body that I dwell in now, not a sword battle has it seen

But the hands love the feel of the hilt, smell of metal makes the heart a battle rhythm beat load and clear

The moon above, gun powder smell makes me want to go behind the lines

But it's over now, no, the warrior soul is still within
Have my lessons all been learned, no if so I would be gone

Does my warrior soul get a rest now in my life still to live

When I leave and return will the battles new unfold or shall I get to sit this one out and rest with my brother and sister warrior souls near

But wait the times do change, could it be the sword of this day and age has changed

The warrior soul is challenged now with new and wondrous ways
Come now my warrior soul the new challenge me must meet

I sit and think of many things, many questions do arise
Many times I have returned with old friends soon at my side

Must we all learn over and over again or is it a friend to help that we come
To reach a hand to some brother or sister warrior soul in need

These questions I can not answer only God knows for sure

Could it be we need to drop the warrior from our name and become just souls all one and the same