| My people were here long before the others cast their sails to the wind
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| Before the tears of innocence like a hard rain would desend
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| My people spread like eagle wings across the mountains and the plains
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| Now the feathers have been broken but the eagle still remains
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| My people heard the thundering as the iron horse crossed the land
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| Its echos drowning out the cries of those who could not understand
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| My people watched the buffalo dying in the sun
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| While those tracks of steal lead to the sea, their will be done
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| Now their blood flows through these rivers and then into our veins
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| And their hearts are beating louder then all the years of shame
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| And their blood flows through these rivers just like an endless rain
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| And their hearts are beating louder then all the years of shame
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| My people have fought for this land, here and across the sea
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| Their shadows cast on sacred ground for all enturnity
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| My people’s pride still can soar and dance across this land
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| You can see it in the eys of every woman, child, and man
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| Because the blood flows through these rivers and then into our veins
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| And their hearts are beating louder then all the years of shame
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| And their blood flows through these rivers just like an endless rain
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| And their hearts are beating louder then all the years of shame
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| My people are the Navoho, my people are the Cherokee
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| My people are Arapoho, my people are Menominee
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| My people are, my people are… |