News that came that morning told that the main force had been slain Chance for peace and justice gone and all talks had been in vain A prince had been offended and he has gone the path of war Now that 1500 men are dead and the Zulu’s at the door
Zulus attack, Fight back to back Show them no mercy and Fire at will Kill or be killed Facing, awaiting
A hostile spear, a new frontier. the end is near There's no surrender The lines must hold. their story told, Rorke's drift controlled
Later on that fateful day as they head towards the drift Stacking boxes, fortify, preparations must be swift Spears and shields of oxen hide facing uniforms and guns As the rifles fire, echoes higher, (beating) like the sound of drums
Zulus attack, Fight back to back Show them no mercy and Fire at will Kill or be killed Facing, awaiting
A hostile spear, a new frontier. the end is near There's no surrender The lines must hold. their story told, Rorke's drift controlled
1879, when a few held the line Back to back, attack, the dead are stacked Where a last stand was made, and the empire saved Back to back, attack, the dead are stacked