Steps into infinite
the beat of soles
mountains, canyons
trees, and holes
The heartbeat of Philmont
the feel of freedom
smelling of pungent odor
no beating of drums
Stomp in the dirt
pound the rocks
crack the boots
and rip your socks
Cinch your pack on
keep it tight
trudge on scout
and you just might
Make the cut
the dwindling few
the mighty ones
the Philmont Crew.