The Last Americans

There's a woman in a tent half a day's walk from camp
All the children have gone and her pillow is damp
She whispers to a man lying frail by her side
"We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans"

She writes in her book: We but few are alive
I know that you'll do what you must to survive
Here, it's me and your father and the devil from camp
We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans

Ever too proud to run, she stayed to the last
At watch by her husband until he had passed
Remember our promise out there on the trail
We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans

But out in the snow, the Devil does call
He whispers: It's time, and breaks through the wall
He asks for her hand, she spits out a breath
We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans

They dance in a waltz, but his feet make no sound
The knife falls away and she can't touch the ground
As they draw face to face, she spits out a breath
We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans

Ah

Up on a hill, there's a man and a pot
And a diary that reads: Time will not have forgot
If it's one hundred years, love, I'll see you again
We're the last Americans
We're the last Americans