Indians-Cowboys and Refuge

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.