As we stand before our council fire,
Under skies of azure blue,
We join ourselves in brotherhood,
Like all good tribesmen do.

And as the fire in the sky,
Sets over this great plain,
We induct ourselves new tribesmen,
As the moon begins to wane.

We put them through the ceremonies,
We put them to the test,
To see if our foxmen,
Could do their very best.

We instructed them in our stories,
And in our ancient ways,
About our tribe’s hardships,
And its better days.

And when the night was through,
And the ceremonies done,
Before us stood new braves,
All proud of what they’d done.

Ready to keep traditions,
Ready to take up slack,
Ready to leave their old lives,
And never once look back.

As we gazed upon them,
We saw the Spirit’s face,
In the future of our tribe,
These braves of such young grace.

For the End of Golden Eagle,
Shall never begin to start,
So long as all her tribesmen,
Remain pure of mind and heart.