| Rise | |
| Circle | |
| Greet the Sun | |
| Serpent coils unwind | |
| Pressure blood from stone | |
| Now do valleys open wide | |
| Now like rust do we reach out | |
| Now do clouds burst forth under weight | |
| Rise | |
| Rest your shield | |
| Lay down your plow | |
| Wake | |
| Inhale | |
| Listen | |
| Rise | |
| Have you ever seen the scarlet day | |
| Or felt the calloused hand of age | |
| You till the ground and bring to home | |
| Muscle flesh and blood to bone | |
| Taste this oaken grain | |
| Grab its horns and not the reins |