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INDIAN STORY

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Back a long long time ago
There was an old man his story he told
He was the chief of a native tribe and he
Spoke of beginnings and endings and wars and lies

He said I tell my tale from a different view
Of the day we saw wagons and suddenly knew
Our lives would never be the same
No nightmare compared to what they brought our way

White man after white man came over the hills that protected our lives
They went on to steal our freedom cause their own they couldn't find

They soon took over the West and the East
Always making promises they couldn't keep
My baby died from diseases they brought
All the while we hardly fought
Buffalo gone land divided by train they won't let us stay
But they won't let us get away

You should see my mothers tears too proud to well up in her eyes
You should hear the wind whisper its sad goodbyes

CHORUS
If you take the land
Please respect the land
This is our one last plea
Before we're forced to flee
And lead your white man's way
And finish off these lonely lonely days
We'll warn you as we once were
Take only what you need and leave the land as you found it

He went on to tell me never underestimate
The power of the sun and the moon and the tide and fate
He said you white men don't understand what it's really like to live off the land
Too bad you've never tried it then you'd realize it's not yours to have

Every one needs to get a chance to hear the owls speak their wisdom at night
Everyone needs to witness coyotes that fill you with fright

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