Indian Sunset

As I awoke this evening

With the smell of woodsmoke clinging

Like a gentle cobweb hanging

Upon a painted tepee

Oh, I went to see my chieftain

With my warlance and my woman

For he told us that the yellow moon

Would very soon be leaving

This I can't believe I said

I can't believe our Warlord's dead

Oh, he would not leave the chosen ones

To the buzzards and the soldiers' guns

Oh, great father of the Iroquois

Ever since I was young

I've read the writing of the smoke

And breast-fed on the sound of drums

I've learned to hurl the tomahawk

And ride a painted pony wild

To run the gauntlet of the Sioux

To make a chieftain's daughter mine

And now you ask that I should watch

The red man's race be slowly crushed?

What kind of words are these to hear

From Yellow Dog, whom white man fears?

I take only what is mine, Lord

My pony, my squaw, and my child

I can't stay to see you die

Along with my tribe's pride

I go to search for the yellow moon

And the fathers of our sons

Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold

And the healing waters run

Trampling down the prairie rose

Leaving hoof tracks in the sand

Those who wish to follow me

I welcome with my hands

I heard from passing renegades

Geronimo was dead

He'd been laying down his weapons

When they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason why

I should carry on

In this land that once was my land

I can't find a home

It's lonely and it's quiet

And the horse soldiers are coming

And I think it's time I strung my bow

And ceased my senseless running

For soon I'll find the yellow moon

Along with my loved ones

Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields

Without the sound of guns

And the red sun sinks at last

Into the hills of gold

And peace to this young warrior

Comes with a bullet hole