An angry staccato echoes in my mind
Ancient drums of stretched hide
Sounding against injustice and calling to the Braves:
Take up your weapons!
Trample the insects that infest our Mother;
Covering her skin with blood, the blood of our brothers
The Ute and the coyote
The Cheyenne and the Buffalo
The Comanche and the Cougar
The Cherokee and the Otter
The Iroquois and the Deer
The Pawnee and the Elk
Taking scalps and hides while leaving flesh to rot
Leaving bones to bleach in the apathetic sun
A mournful staccato echoes in my mind
Ancient drums of stretched hide.
Sounding against the rape of our Mother
and calling to the Shaman:
Take up your medicines!
Heal the corporate disease that sickens our Mother;
Blighting the land with monuments
To dead and angry gods
To dead and angry men
To dead and angry ideals
Replacing the forest with fields of grain
Filling the meadows with forests of steel
Defacing the prairie with asphalt scars
The beauty of our mother is fading
The scent of growth is covered by the stench of butchery
A despondent staccato echoes in my mind
Ancient drums of stretched hide
Sounding against intolerance
and calling to my Brothers and Sisters:
Take up your wisdom!
Bring light to the contemporary despair
That shadows our land
Decaying the minds of our youth with false promises of happiness
Through the procurement of objects which pleasure the greedy
Through the sensory orgasms of miraculous inventions
Through mating with shallow people to produce hollow children
Through accepting and blaming gods which do not exist
The purity of our race is thinning
The power of our medicine is weakening
The quality of our lives is decreasing
Our oneness with the land is all but gone
An auspicious staccato echoes in my mind
Ancient drums of stretched hide.
Sounding against hopelessness
But this beat is too weak
I fear it is too late
Lay down your arms my brothers
The only weapon left is our words
Let us raise our voices to the powers that be
In unison, with pride and let us hope that truth will prevail
We cannot turn back the white tide
We must now try to live in peace
We must now try to die with dignity |
