Atkin-James
The heroes ride out through the Sunlight Gate
And out of the sunset return
I have no idea how they spend their day
With a selfless act, or a grandstand play
But high behind them the sky will burn
In the glittering hour of return
The heroes ride out in unbroken ranks
But with gaps in their number come back
I have no idea how they lose their men
To some new threat, or the same again
But they talk a long while near the weapon stack
In the clattering hour they come back
The heroes return through the Sunset Gate
But their faces are never the same
I have no idea why their eyes go cold
And the young among them already look old
But high behind them the sky's aflame
In the flickering hour of their fame