The Ballad of Crowfoot

Comes the spring and its warm thaw Around your neck the eagle claw Upon your head the buffalo horn Today a great new chief is born So raise him fast towards the sun A heart now beats, a life's begun It's eighteen hundred twenty-one Today a Blackfoot soul is, is born Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow Your years have gone, the years have past Your heart is set, your soul is cast You stand before the council fire You have the mind and the desire Of notions wise you speak so well And in brave deeds you do excel And it's eighteen hundred fifty-three And you stand the chief of confederacy You are the leader, you are the chief You stand against both liar and thief They trade braves' whiskey and steal your land And they're coming in swift like the wind-blown sand They shoot the buffalo, kill the game And send their preachers in to shame And it's eighteen hundred sixty-four And you think of peace and you think of war Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow See the settlers in more numbers He takes whatever he encounters You've seen the Sioux all battered, beaten They're all in rags, they haven't eaten The Nez Perce were much the same It seems like such a heartless game And it's eighteen hundred seventy-six And the enemy's full of those death-dealing tricks Today the treaty stands on the table Will you sign it? Are you able? It offers food and protection too Do you really think they'll hold it true? It offers a reserve, now isn't that grand? And in return you cede all of your land And it's eighteen hundred seventy-seven And you know the scales are so uneven Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow Well, the buffalo are slaughtered, there is nothing to eat The government's late again with the meat And your people are riddled with the white man's disease And in the summer they're sick and in the winter they freeze and Sometimes you wonder why you signed that day But they broke the treaties themselves anyway And it's eighteen hundred eighty-nine And your death star explodes and then it falls Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow The years have gone, the years have flown The nation since has swiftly grown but Yet for the Indian, it's all the same There's still the hardship, there's still the pain There's still the hardship, there's still the strife Its bitterness shines like a whetted knife There's still the hypocrisy, and the hate Was that in the treaties? Was that the fate? We're all unhappy pawns in the government's game And it's always the Indian who gets the blame It's a problem which money can never lessen And it's nineteen hundred sixty-seven Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow Maybe one day you'll find honesty Instead of the usual treachery Perhaps one day the truth shall prevail And the warmth of love which it does entail Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears? You've been a brave man for many years Why the sadness? Why the sorrow? Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow