Hear me, oh Red man,
if you want to save your hide,
Because here you surely can't abide.
Take your pagan customs with you please do,
Get off the planet,I would if I were you.
Don't cherish the land in which you were born,
We already have your tobacco and corn.
Without your help we couldn't have survived,
But now that civilization has been revived.
A payment is due,we'll pay you in lead,
We won't sleep a moment, until your all dead.
An enemy like you we can't understand,
We take and you give, and you hold out your hand.
A handshake with you makes my stomach turn,
How come your so stupid, how come you don't learn?
I believe in the saying that somebody said,
The only good Indian is one that is dead.
Our God hates a heathen, now this we all know,
If he doesn't change his ways to hell he must go.
So, we help out our God in all the ways we can,
We kill all the pagans and take over their land.
The deseases we've fed them are working too slow,
They don't hurt enough, not near enough woe.
We'll make them all starve, show them how low we can go,
So,we killed and we killed to the last Buffalo.
Bison don't fight back so we made a great show,
We cut out their tongues and we ripped off their skins.
But God will forgive us for all our sins.
If we pray every morning and also at night,
Our sins are forgiven, everything is alright.
So,the survivers were put on a reservation,
The last lost people of a proud nation.
People shouldn't go down with the setting sun,
America what in god's name have you done?
America the beautiful, America the free,
You've lost something essential as it could be.
From your highest mountain to your shining sea,
There should be a part of what use to be.
Not the clutter of mankind everywhere you look,
Why not give back a little of what you took.
Native Americans Indians are still here today,
But no body listens to what they have to say.
They said it before and they say it again,
You can't own the land,
you don't own the rain.
So, why can't we learn from people who know,
They have only been here twenty thousand years or so.
Could it be that they know this immense and great land,
Like you know your children or the back of your hand.
Why haven't we learned from people so great,
We are here today, we leave what we create.
Be it jungles of garbage or polluted water,
The land still owns you, your only a squatter...

© Belinda Cloud Dancer 04/02/2001

A Warrior is the protector of
his family,clan and his tribe

A Warrior is the guardian of the
old ways so that they are not
forgotten

A Warrior is not motivated by
greed, political ambition or
fame

A Warrior will not put himself
above others in need

And above all
A Warrior is the living spirit of
our Grandfathers

© WhisperingLake Eyes 04/02/2001

Hunted. Chased. Cornered. Finally, Weak.
Killed like animals! Won’t someone speak,
for the Cherokee?

Here first! The land is theirs!
Used, not owned, but borrowed from heirs.
Here first, but alas, also first to die.
Call them thieves; An easy lie.

Hunted. Chased. Cornered. Finally, weak.
Killed like animals! Won’t someone speak,
for the Cherokee?

Not used to whites. Afraid even.
Quite unlike their Mikmaq brethren.
Just surviving, a daily task.
Were they really civilized? You dare ask!

Hunted. Chased. Cornered. Finally, weak.
Killed like animals! Will someone speak,
for the Cherokee?

One of the last rushes forth to speak.
Holding aloft a branch, where three limbs meet.
If Mamaq and whites can live together:
Why are we, the third limb, left to wither?

We are hunted. Chased. Cornered. Finally, weak.
We are killed like animals. Who will speak,
for the Cherokee?

Hunt them. Kill them. They are in our way.
Spread word of our ill deeds? We say nay.
We are discoverers. Conquerers even.
Guns against arrows? No matter. They’re heathen.

Hunt them. Chase them. ‘till they’re weak.
Corner them. Kill them. No one will speak,
for the Cherokee.

Now all gone. Or so you say.
No living Cherokee, no Cherokee problem eh?
Cherokee and Whitemen, mixing blood.
If truth be known, wait for the flood.

Hunted. Chased. Cornered. Finally, weak.
Are they all dead?? Who dares speak,
for the Cherokee!

© Jeddore Lich 04/02/2001