// To them you own no name but a number on a plate
hanging 'round your neck
My eyes bury the sorrow of a long griefing pain
I stand on the Rocky mountain top and watch you cry
All the pride in your eyes have been whiped out
I watch the leader stallion as his great power has left the earth
I look at his younger ones and wonder if they'll remember
where they came from
We've been robbed on our legacy
Hunted down and locked up in some far away place
Just like you are now
I take off my headdress and face what has been done
I shake their hand and pray for peace
Just like many other chiefs have done before me
I stand on the Black Hills and pray for a change
I stand on the Black Hills and seak for the Great Spirit,
to hear your pain
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Let me forget all about Sand Creek
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee,
don't let the ancestors see what we've become //
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar