Nehalenna's Page

Words & Music by: J D Blackfoot © 1973 Published by: Tokala Music

You took his land and you ate his corn,
and on his grave your land was born.
You took his pride and you fed him dirt,
you wished him winter without a shirt
and you called this red man savage.
And after you crushed him you helped him up,
to let him drink from an empty cup.
You gave him the Navy without the fleet,
and made him lick your hands and kiss your feet,
and you named this mad dog savage.
Well I found a book the other day,
so I looked up red and white to see what it'd say.
One was a savage the other unlearned,
like a look in the mirror the tables were turned,
for history has named you - savage.

In the year of 65 when I was very young,
we watched the dust clouds to the south
we knew that you had come.
We saw you build your chain of forts
along the Bozeman Road,
but Red Cloud had his allies a-counted
long before it snowed.
And someday Great White Father
you will know my name.

In December of 66' you met me face to face.
I decoyed your Captain Fetterman
and we never left a trace.
Into our sacred homelands
your Blue Coat Soldiers came,
but we just taught you a heap-big lesson
in the Battle of a Hundred Slain.
And someday Great White Father
you will know my name.

In the June of 76' our Nation joined its hands.
We made our camps on The Little Bighorn
not knowing of your plans.
You sent your long-haired Custer
with the Seventh Cavalry,
to hunt and kill my children
for wanting to be free.
And I think it’s time Great White Father
that you knew my name !
It’s Crazy Horse - it’s Crazy Horse
and I wish you were here to see,
cause’ I got Yellow Hair cornered at the Bighorn
and I’m about to set him free.

Ride to the village to get my Oglala's,
the Sans Arc’s and the Miniconjou,
Get Sitting Bull with his band of Hunkpapa’s,
the Brule’s and Blackfoot’s too.

Ridin’ home from battle came the Cheyenne ponies
with white blood drippin’ from their feet.
Their riders were a lookin’ and a shoutin’ up to heaven
here’s to Chivington at Sand Creek.

Hey there mister wagon master
what do ya' have inside,
hidden underneath of that buffalo hide.
Could it be ya' brought to me
some food from the man back east,
so my starvin' children could have a feast.
A-hey mother come look and see,
what the bastard done brought to me -
its alcohol - tobacco - and guns,
alcohol - tobacco - and guns

Now I have seen the Eagle soaring
beautiful and free,
I don't want no man to make less of me.
Do you take me for a fool
or as a little child?
And do you really wonder what's made me wild?
Hey paleface ya' better run,
because my men been havin' lots of fun
on your - alcohol - tobacco - and guns,
alcohol - tobacco - and guns. Yeah -

Now I have waited patiently
for you to pay your rent,
but as yet I haven’t seen that first red cent.
I don’t think that there’s much chance
of me evicting you,
but watch out for the day that you get Sioux‘d.
A hundred years have seen the setting sun,
but his sad country it still is run - on his
alcohol - tobacco - and guns,
alcohol - tobacco - and guns.
A hundred years have seen the setting sun,
but his sad country it still is run - on his
alcohol - tobacco - and guns,
alcohol - tobacco - and GUNS.

Now you try to trick me and lock me up in jail,
but where would a stupid savage
find the bondsmen or the bail.
I turn to run for I am scared and want so to be free.
I feel the ice cold bayonet
as it sinks deep inside of me.
But someday Great White Father
you’ll remember me.


Sioux warriors teach your children
the white mans evil tongue.
Make them know the name of Crazy Horse
and the battles he has won.
So they will know the truth
when its knowledge that they crave.
Let them sing of the land of the free
and the home of the brave.
And of the Great White Father
that dug my grave.

Brown rivers once were blue
now the fish float upside down.
Ancestral burial grounds
that’s where you built your towns.
The smokestacks from your factories
they pollute my skies.
You slaughtered all my buffalo
and you left me here to die.
And all of this you have done
in the name of God.
Crazy Horse he was laid to rest
on a creek called Wounded Knee.
But there is more buried in his grave
than the wisest men could see.

I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild,
I have seen the land of the great beyond.
I am one with this earth as a little child.
Let my eternal light shine on.

I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild,
and I have seen the land of the great beyond.
I am one with this earth as a little child.
Let my eternal light shine on.

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest
on a creek called Wounded Knee.
But there is more buried in his crave
than the wisest men could see.

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest
on a creek called Wounded Knee.
But there is more buried in his crave
than the wisest men could see.

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest
on a creek called Wounded Knee.
But there is more buried in his crave
than the wisest men could see.

Milkweed allusion cast its dye.
And the horse that dances starts to fly.
Rhythms of metamorphous leave their stain.
Memories of happiness kept in vain.

The target tomorrow is one step beyond.
For lilies of mercy lost on a pond.
They cry out for freedom to the light house above.
They are angels of victory, peace and love.

Visions of Odin dark and oblique.
Mind over matter which all men seek.
A vague understanding with no recourse.
And a fond remembrance of Crazy Horse.

Just Ride away -
And travel right out through space and time.
Try and find a way of leaving the illusion behind.
And in this sleep your mind will be awakened.
To the calling of a dream that lies within.
You’re just a child, who has but to remember.
That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away -
And let your mind go through its metamorphosis.
Try and find a way -
To bring your sunken love back to the surface.
And sail on silver clouds straight through the fire.
Like a lily pad adrift on a windless sea.
A-clinging to the breast of Mother Nature.
Together sailing beautiful and free.

Ride away lord -
It’s said that Crazy Horse had the power
to dream himself into the real world -
and leave the illusion behind.

DOUBLE CHANT -

So ride away -
And don’t recall the things that are best forgotten.
Try and find a way -
of picking from the barrel the one that’s rotten.
The key to peace is sitting on your shoulders.
So knock upon the door and you walk on in.
You’re just a child who has but to remember.
That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away yeah - Ride away -
Ride away - Ride away -
Ride away yeah - Oh yeah -

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest
on a creek called Wounded Knee






WHITE COMEDY by Benjamin Zephania
from "Propa Propaganda"
I waz whitemailed
By a white witch,
Wid white magic
An white lies,
Branded by a white sheep
I slaved as a whitesmith
Near a white spot
Where I suffered whitewater fever.
Whitelisted as a whiteleg
I waz in de white book
As a master of white art,
It waz like white death.

People called me white jack
Some hailed me as a white wog,
So I joined de white watch
Trained as a white guard
Lived off the white economy.
Caught and beaten by de whiteshirts
I waz condemned to a white mass,
Don't worry,
I shall be writing to de Black House.