Из альбома: Paradise Lost
Gaze upon the heavens
The sky cracks wide open
Storm clouds filled with lightning
As thunder is rolling
Day of judgement on us
The white dogs come crawling
Stricken down by lies
Their forked tongues are talking
Fires burn the prairie
Herds of buffalo thinning down
Spirits carry my body across the divide
Armies raiding the village
Blood of warriors spilling out
Days of Indian Summer return
Time to die
Round us up like cattle
And lead us to the slaughter
Spreading your diseases
With wiskey filled water
Tribal customs dying
Remind us of our shame
Justice will be served
When our lands are reclaimed
On and on and on and on
We go
To live another day
To our gods
We pray