Dwellers on the prairie
Plants by the water
Poison in the ground
Little village at the end
Reach to touch
Red clouds in the sky
Rearing for long winter
West of the Missouri
Buried in the snow, frozen still
Bruised protectors
Busted knee
Sans their arcs, empty hands are cuffed
Sacred stone
Back in fields of oil
Stamping out their footprints
Erasing them as people
From the tired world
From 1851 at Laramie
To gold in the Black Hills
That's turned to black gold
Wanyi oyate to be sold
"From this day forth
All war between
The parties to this agreement
Shall forever cease"
One nation under unkept promises
