A cabin stood amidst the shadows of the towering trees Built from their heads On the land grown from the seeds they have sewn With their bare hands Sometimes one does not Reap what he sews The grass is stained With blood and shame At the Y in the road No more Their graves have been dug on this mountainside We're going to war They won't be taken alive A family's life is changed When they open fire on his son Blood on their hands All their freedoms torn from the lives they have known Ripped from their hands They sealed off the mountain Four hundred strong Carelessness and disregard At the Y in the road No more Their graves have been dug on this mountainside We're going to war They won't be taken alive No more Their graves have been dug on this mountainside We're going to war They won't be taken alive Will you stop at nothing Until you kill them all? Will this be the last time Or will you kill them all? At the Y in the road