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