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