Come all ye young Browncoats, and list while I sing,

For the love of one's home world is a terrible thing.

It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,

And it makes us all part of the Patriot game.

My name’s Malcom Reynolds, and I've just turned nineteen.

My home was in Shadow, and where I was weaned

I learned all my life cruel Alliance to blame,

So now I am part of the Patriot game.

These Rim Worlds of ours were no longer free.

‘neath Sihnon and Londinium’s coerced unity.

I joined a battalion of Overland fame.

the old 57th in the Patriot game.

It's nearly ten years since I held that line,

In Serenity Valley, where our valor did shine,

Our own High Command withheld final aid,

and lost Independence in the Patriot game.

And now as I lie here, my body all holes

I think of our leaders who bargained in souls

And I wish that my rifle had given the same

To Browncoats who sold us, in the Patriot game.