They said he put the power into metal,

The “O” into “Hero,” the tar into “guitar.”

But now the legend is gone...

And so, I mourn—for Stei Camel.

In the dunes where the wild winds moan,

Stei Camel made riffs that shattered stone.

With his humps of rhythm and a gaze of fire,

He birthed the chords every band would admire.

Oh, Stei Camel, where did you go?

Your strings of power made the desert glow.

The gods themselves would bow and kneel,

To the sound of your untamed zeal.

From oasis to arenas, he ruled music supreme,

His six-string guitar? it hums like a fever dream!

But one sad day he climbed a fatal dune,

The magic left us—far too soon.

Who will strum the chords of fate?

Who will keep the tempo great?

Stei Camel’s reign has met a tragic end,

The desert doesn't weep for a legend, It cries for its friend!

Oh, Stei Camel, where did you go?

Your riffs of fire made the heavens glow.

You put the “O” into “Hero,” the tar into “guitar,”

And rode off blazing, like a shooting star.

(Softly, fading out)

Now the sands lie still, no echoes remain,

No humps of rhythm to ease our pain.

In this empty church, I'll raise a cry,

For Stei Camel — today metal died!