Facing into the setting sun
Looking down upon the valley
Where once herds of buffalo did run…All that was before the whiteman
When the Redman knew no shame
Was as proud as anyone can
Be of their nation and their name…
But then along came the whiteman
It was a long time ago…
And since then for the redman:
There has been only woe…
Hark back to the days of old
The days when the buffalo roam…
Hark back to the times of when stories were told
To a time when this was their home.
But today they live in the city
In a land of girder and block
And they are the ones who erect the girder
And they work not by the sun, but by the clock.
And the spirit of their people is crushed
They are overcome, their will broken
But once. though outnumbered they rushed
To defend this land of which we’ve spoken.
To the drink and the devil and the drugs
Have turned the Dakota and the Cherokee
In the city they may have jobs
But they never will truly be free.
You live by a white mans laws
You live by grace of the white mans hand
And though you may speak your native tongue
Even your reservation is the white mans land.
So what then of tomorrow?
What of the days to come?
The final annihilation of our races?
More of what we have come from?
Many of those who stole these lands
Suffered as we in from where they came
Their sins committed by their own hands
They stole! And they have no shame!
White man preaches on a Sunday
Tells all not to steal and be good
And each and every single day
On stolen land he lives like not he should.
Here’s to the Spirits of the Redman
Forsaken by the New God
Who seems to favour the whiteman
Of the Catholic, the Aimish, the Jew, the Prod.
When they worshiped the Gods of olden times
Though often beaten, they could resist
Now worshiping the God of the whiteman:
They were easy to dismiss.
Pray to the Gods of the mountain
For a better time let us pray…
To the spirits for strength do the ancient dances
For a new and better day.