| My blood is mixed
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| My mother was ungumpai picani, my father was habsoluca
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| This mixture was not respected; |
| as a small boy I was often left to myself
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| So I spent many months stalking the Elk people, to prove i would soon become a
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| good hunter
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| One day finally, my Elk relatives took pity on me, and a young Elk gave his
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| life to me
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| With only my knife, I took his life
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| As I was preparing to cut the meat white men came upon me, they were English
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| soldiers
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| I cut one with my knife but they hit me on the head, with a rifle
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| All went black; |
| my spirit seemed to leave me
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| I was then taken east, in a cage
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| I was taken to Toronto, then Philadelphia, and then to New York;
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| and each time I arrived in another city, somehow the white man had moved all
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| thier people there ahead of me
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| Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I could not
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| understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly
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| Eventually, I was taken on a ship across the great sea, over to England,
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| and I was paraded before them like a captured animal, an exhibit
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| So I mimicked them, imitating their ways, hoping they might lose interest in
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| this young savage, but their interest only grew
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| I was copying them so they placed me into the white mans school
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| It was there that I discovered, in a book, the words that William Blake had
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| written
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| They were powerful words and they spoke to me
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| So I made careful plans and eventually I escaped
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| Once again I crossed the great ocean
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| I saw many sad things as I made my way back to the lands of my people
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| Once they realized who I was, the stories of my adventures angered them
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| They called me a liar
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| Xebachae-he who talks loud saying nothing
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| Ridiculed by my own people, and I was left to wander the earth alone
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| I am Nobody |