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High above the valley, staring through the glass;
Sitting Bull is watching, the soldiers as they pass.
Gold is in the mountains, so the white man comes to pillage;
The soldiers come to see to that, by raiding in the village.

   Genocide in motion, if the red man only knew;
   The white man and his government spoke words that were untrue.
   The scavengers are flying; there are coyotes in the grass;
   The cougar watches from a cliff, they’ve seen this in the past.

Gathered in a circle, out numbered ten to one;
The pioneers are waiting, for the Indians to come.
The Indians would violate, a body when it’s dead;
With their knives, they took the scalp; from the top of slain men’s heads.

   Circling in the sky and sitting in the trees;
   The vultures sit and wait their time, for death is in the breeze.
   The killing fields are ready, like a table set for lunch;
   The animals will dine today, meat and bones will crunch.

Let everyone line up, we’re going to choose up sides;
Then we’ll argue right from wrong, about why people die.
Are you for the red man or are you for the whites;
Do you think it’s good to kill, or do we have no right?

   There inside a room, the senators all sit,
   Congress is in session, the killing has to quit.
   Over in the pentagon, the generals all have met;
    No matter what becomes of it, the wars aren’t over yet.

Genocide in motion, our liberties are lost;
Piece by piece and portioned, success at any cost.
The tax man like the vultures that are hanging in the trees;
 They’re looking for their piece of change; they can smell it in the breeze.

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