My ancestors they roamed this land
They hunted in the wind, sun, snow and rain
Then the white man came and stole this land
And still my ancestors they don't understand
Ten thousand years we lived our lives
Then the white man came with their long knives
They promised us almost everything
Then they took away just everything.
Ch
We'll come again, we'll come again, we'll come again.
We lived with spirit, earth, air and fire
The white man produces such an earthly pyre
World without feeling compassion or taste
Our children born into this mindless waste
Now we live on your reservations
And you all talk of conservation
You gave us your fire water and your sin
You talk of change so let's begin
You try and rule us with your fear and your greed
You try and tell us what we all need
The Great Spirit is the only way
We shall have, we shall have our day
(I wrote this while living in America, I have always had a strong sense of identity with Native Americans - past life stuff - Mitakuye Oyasin)
