Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
During the Civil War, money came late,
Indians starved, left to their fate.
Two braves came across a white farmer's food.
They were hungry and stressed and in a bad mood.
Little Bear picked up an egg, Grey Elk said no.
Some things we can't do, some places can't go.
This is a white man's farm; we can't be here.
Little Bear threw it down with contempt for Elk's fear.
Grey Elk was stung, he killed five whites in the farm.
Chief Little Crow found out; said you've done us all harm.
A young man shouted, "Little Crow is afraid, a white man's tool."
Little Crow said, "I am not a coward and not a fool."
[chorus]
Never tell a Warrior he's afraid.
A red cloud will rise, a price will be paid.
The sitting bull will run with the crazy horse.
The wolf pack of fate will follow its course.
Said Crow: Count your fingers any amount.
White men will come faster than you can count….
they will turn on you and devour you all.
Like leaves your women and children will fall.
Little Crow knew what a hopeless battle meant.
But after so many broken treaties, he had to consent.
Friend Wabasha said: It is Great Spirit's will.
We have got to die. Let us, then, kill!
Sioux lost the war, the goal beyond reach.
"I'm ashamed" Little Crow said in his last speech.
Whites are cowardly women, but they won the fight.
Now we must scatter, like buffalo in flight.
[chorus]
Never tell a Warrior he's afraid.
A red cloud will rise, a price will be paid.
The sitting bull will run with the crazy horse.
The wolf pack of fate will follow its course.
There came many seasons, a Drying Grass Moon,
In Dakota reservation, not enough room
Water no good, no game they could see
They buried Crazy Horse at Wounded Knee
By the Yellow Medicine River imagine that force
Traveling Hail, Lightning Blanket, and Crazy Horse
Fierce riding Braves, Flying Hawk and Lone Horn.
From a vain quest of courage, a legend was born.
Copyright ©
Mark Springer
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