As I awoke this evening with the smell of wood smoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging upon a painted teepee
Oh I went to see my chieftain with my warlance and my woman
For he told us that the yellow moon would very soon be leaving
This I cant believe I said, I cant believe our warlords dead
Oh he would not leave the chosen ones to the buzzards and the soldiers guns
Oh great father of the Iroquois ever since I was young
Ive read the writing of the smoke and breast fed on the sound of drums
Ive learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux, to make a chieftains daughter mine
And now you ask that I should watch
The red mans race be slowly crushed
What kind of words are these to hear
From Yellow Dog whom white man fears
I take only what is mine Lord, my pony, my squaw, and my child
I cant stay to see you die along with my tribes pride
I go to search for the yellow moon and the fathers of our sons
Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold and the healing waters run
Trampling down the prairie rose leaving hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands
I heard from passing renegades Geronimo was dead
Hed been laying down his weapons when they filled him full of lead
Now there seems no reason why I should carry on
In this land that once was my land I cant find a home
Its lonely and its quiet and the horse soldiers are coming
And I think its time I strung my bow and ceased my senseless running
For soon Ill find the yellow moon along with my loved ones
Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields without the sound of guns
And the red sun sinks at last into the hills of gold
And peace to this young warrior comes with a bullet hole
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