Aurora Borealis

The icy sky at night

Paddles cut the water

In a long and hurried flight

From the white man to the fields of green

and the homeland we’ve never seen

They killed us in our teepees

And they cut our women down

They might have left some babies

Cryin’ on the ground

But the firesticks and the wagons come

And the night falls on the settin’ sun

They massacred the buffalo

Kitty corner from the bank

The taxis run across my feet

And my eyes have turned to blanks

In my little box at the top of the stairs

With my indian rug and a pipe to share

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