It's a cry that echos through the years
The pain etched on each generation
I've been told it's history, that I am
A hundred and fifty years too late
To try and feel some type of way
But the hole in my heart
wont seal up
It hurts to know
that I've lost so
much of My family
My culture
My language
All because someone wanted gold
All because they needed land
And plots to call their own
Now they tell me
its okay For a school
to have the mascot
Dress up in the same clothes
as my Teton ancestors
They show the games on the tv
There are crowds of headresses
And dozens of faces cover in paint
Their "war cries" echo through the stadium
Where they pass a ball from one end to the other
And during half time
you can watch the redman
Run and hop and holler
Impersonating a warrior in his prime
Its sad that these people
see no wrong in these acts
"Its a tradition!" they claim
"Something thats been done for ages"
Cue the bitter laughter
Its a point thats proven true
Just grab an American history book
And flip to the beginning
There will be hundreds of tales
About the fight against these brown native men
And even after the war was won
They continue to earse the brown from his skin
They locked the people on strips of land
And took the children to boarding schools
Where they where told
How to dress
How to speak
And even how to live
They took their names
They took their homes
They even took their words
And all the while the Caucasian man was chanting
"Kill the indian, save the man"
Herown