2. For we run the game
We make the sounds, we make the rounds.
We shoot the guns, we love the puns.
We fight the battle, we herd the cattle.
We are the masters, we are the writers.
We make the song, we right the wrong.
Through the burning cold of fire,
Through the freezing burns of ice,
Through the orders of our sire,
Through the eerie touch of lice,
You carry us,
You push us,
You praise us,
You teach us,
You are the teacher,
We are the master