Lyrics by Rudyard Kipling

Music Arranged by Leslie Fish

After the burrial parties leave
    and the baffled crows have fled
The wise hyenas come out at eve
    to take account of our dead.

How he died and why he died
    troubles them not a bit
They snout the bushes and stones aside
    and dig till they come to it

They only are resolute they shall eat
    that they and their mates may thrive
And they know that the dead are safer meat
    than the weakest thing alive

For a goat may butt and a worm may sting
    and a child may sometimes stand
But a poor dead soldier of some king
    can never lift a hand

They whoop and hollar and scatter the dirt
    until their fangs so white
Take good hold in the army shirt
    and tug the corpse to light

And the pitiful face is shown again
    for an instant before they close
But it is not uncovered by living men
    only to god and to those.

They, being soleless are free from shame
    at whatever meat they may find
Nor do they defile the dead man's name
    That is reserved for his kind
        for his own kind
    That is reserved for his kind