| Water was the sacred power
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| That defined the plains
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| And with the sun promised the earth
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| To activate the grains
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| So the bison collected to graze with
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| Greasy was the grass grown by the rains
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| He who steals the fat comes soon
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| Sitting Bull explained
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| He spoke that land was not for men
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| To loan or exchange
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| After gold was bellowed from the bluffs that
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| Settlers came to occupy the range
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| Money was the white man’s god
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| Honor was his face
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| And in his eyes reminders of
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| A way of life erased
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| So the spirits are left with the bison, watch them
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| Living all their lives on day’s gaze
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| Made to worship Bibles in the place
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| Of the hunt
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| So said Custer to his men
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| Surveying the hills
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| They’ll vacate to their agencies
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| The ones that don’t we kill
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| And what guns and forced relocation can’t do
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| Alcohol and isolation will
|
| After all the gold was gone
|
| Oil came in its wake
|
| Pale face stranded out and found
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| A new promise to break
|
| Once their land and lore had been stolen there was
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| Nothing but their water left to take
|
| Nothing but their spirits left to break |
| Buffalo Calf Road Woman
|
| Watch the shadows dancing into the infinite
|
| Custer’s horse became increasingly fast and then
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| She found her shot to have his body removed from it
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| Greasy was the grass grown by the rains
|
| Greasy was the grass grown by the rains
|
| Greasy was the grass grown by the rains
|
| As they fell
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| Onto the freezing |