Here the call, look out on the road beyond,nThrough glass and blood that runs along the rusted can that's home.nPlowing through the cities, dust and stench that's newnLocal traffic stalled a while, is this worth the drive?nnHere the call, through hunger, sweat, and empty hallsnAn ethic of the pioneer, do it or die.nnRest, rest up,nWrap your wounds, get back on the field,nAnd breathe, breathe through the dust and mold,nThe cities stench, it fuels you.