[ Native American, introductory poem ]

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       I am the master of Sequoyah, Spirit friend of American Nations
       Eternal Logos of wisdom's sages, infinity cosmic universal ages
       I am the author of peace and love but my right hand holds the thunder
       Those who deceive and oppress my people
       My white horse soon will trample under. . .

                    We all bow to Big Chief
                    Great Spirit of Oglala Sioux sky
                    Who makes his rain fall on the evil and good
                    And hears the oppressed when they cry
                    We believe in helping a stranger in need
                    And believe in brotherhood
                    The avarice way of the savage light hand
                    We've never really quite understood

                    We all bow to Big Chief
                    Our Father of American nations
                    Never killing or planting more than we need
                    We have reverence for all his creations
                    For 12,000 years we hunted in peace
                    Gathered food and planted his seed
                    We seldom knew more than minor warfare
                    And never heard of such insatiable greed

                    We all bow to Big Chief
                    Great God of the natural flow
                    We like to share all things in common
                    And offer half when supplies are low
                    They called us sub-human and savage
                    For refusing to buy and sell land
                    And repaid our kindness with evil
                    When we offered them a helping hand

                    There's a drum beat sounding in the distance
                    The Trail Of Tears continues to grow
                    As they rape the home of our children's future
                    And ignore the true path that we know
                    Misery and destruction follow their feet
                    The Law Of Peace they have not known
                    And as sure as mighty rivers flow to the sea
                    They will reap what they have sown

                    "Vengeance is mine" says Big Chief
                    And though our tears flow down like rain
                    We know that someday we will prevail
                    And be one with the eagle again
                    Now whether our lot be good or bad
                    And no matter which way the wind blows
                    We all bow to Big Chief
                    'Cause we know his will is what goes *

Native American Poverty Information

Native American Rights Fund    Native American Resources

*FootNote:  Dedicated to Tatanka-Iyotanka [Chief Sitting Bull; Hunkpapa Sioux], perhaps the very greatest political leader to ever arise in the Americas.  It is typical of him to note that in old age and enduring criticism for stooping to take part in Buffalo Bill's traveling wild west show, Tatanka Iyotake took his excess earnings from this and spread it among the poor white children he encountered in the various towns the show passed through---the same white children whose relatives had so unbelievably mistreated and utterly decimated the Sioux and other Native Americans, violating treaty after treaty after treaty, over and over again.


Copyright © by Richard Aberdeen ASCAP
Copyright © by Freedom Tracks Music ASCAP

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