Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
And the death of a race is a game
Where seldom is heard
A peacable word
>From the white trash
Who killed as they came
Though these words dig deep
They offer no relief
God save the queen
I am an indian chief
There is a secret I keep
It`s called the talking leaf
And you better believe
That he speaks his beliefs
Like a rock that bleeds
A sea of grief
My talking leaf speaks of
A wounded knee creek
American ghost dance...
A new man who is with old ways
He walks the streets of life
But he`s in chains
I`m alive he cried
I can feel the flame
Burning red inside
I am an indian brave
There is a memory
That lives in my blood
Of the brand you laid
On all you touched
But the burning flame
Turns to burning pain
Genuine genocide
And that`s truly insane
So like a wild hurricane
I will dance on the grave
Of my race that died
When it should have been saved
American ghost dance...
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