[Verse 1]
Once, the Jedi mastered the Force, sworn to shield the weak.
But tangled in politics and wars that weren’t theirs, the Order forgot its vows—and now, there’s no undoing this…
All that once gave his life meaning is gone.
Dooku walks on, silent, quickening his stride, eyes fixed ahead—no reason to look back.
A line was crossed inside him; his apprentice’s death sealed the break—he’s walking away.
The Master’s fist closed hard on the lightsaber
hilt, every groove and edge biting into his palm!
Neither the Republic nor the old oaths
Can hold him any longer.
The clamor of Geonosis, the thundering factories,
The droids—all left far behind.
Now, only the hum of a speeder bike’s engine,
Racing across the endless dunes
Of night-shrouded Tatooine!
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Chorus]
Bastet treads softly — sand streams from beneath her paws.
We head toward the warmth — through the cold wind and through the dust.
[Verse 2]
They move with the wind, and the desert sweeps away their tracks; the secretive Tuskens know the hidden paths.
Above the dunes, the spires of moisture vaporators stand in a row; pure condensate settles on the cold pipes.
Drop by drop, the vapor gathers, the moisture flows down into the underground reservoir.
To spill water upon the sand is a grave sin—for the Sand People, it’s the final lesson.
“Outsiders draw water from the desert like blood from a living thing—they must be stopped. Forever!”
Mounted on a bantha, the Tusken chieftain raises his gaderffii high, leading his kin away…
The Tuskens dissolve into the sands they call home…
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Chorus]
Bastet treads softly — sand streams from beneath her paws.
We head toward the warmth — through the cold wind and through the dust.
[Verse 3]
Time burns away like water on Tatooine sand.
There’s no justice here, never will be.
The boy who once held his father’s fallen helmet
Is now a warrior, a seasoned mercenary—his name is Boba Fett.
He’s picked up the trail, he sees his target, closing in.
The Jawas stole the cargo—he must get it back.
In tattered brown robes, the Jawas haul everything away.
Only their eyes glow like two warm little embers; they spot movement from afar.
An ion blast flares—the air grows thick with heat.
And a game without rules begins—sand erupts from the impact!
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Chorus]
Bastet treads softly — sand streams from beneath her paws.
We head toward the warmth — through the cold wind and through the dust.
[Verse 4]
The ships sit heavy, hulls patched as if fresh from battle.
In the port, the hangar doors stand open—inside, a dim, shadowy gloom.
In the Old Quarter, the signs are worn away by the sand.
Houses huddle close, their walls stained with salt and dust.
Pipes snake along the streets like stubborn, aged veins;
Through them flows water—the only salvation for a city parched with thirst!
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Verse 5]
Here, gangs hold the streets and divide the spoils.
They don’t ask who you are or why you’re here.
Everyone looks for the most profitable deal to strike,
While bosses sit in the semi-darkness, calculating their cut.
Shadows of mercenaries flit through the alleys—
Ensuring that cargo moves along the right routes.
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Verse 6]
The city chokes on dust.
Every step costs what you’re willing to give.
No matter how hard it gets, all roads lead to Mos Eisley!
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Verse 7]
Bastet walks along the edge of the Sea of Dunes, where the night is like dark water,
And the stars within it sink without a trace.
The Sandcrawler crawls along, its lights casting a warm glow,
While the dunes wait quietly for the dawn.
[Chorus]
Bastet treads softly — sand streams from beneath her paws.
We head toward the warmth — through the cold wind and through the dust.
[Instrumental Outro]
