As I awoke this evening
With the smell of woodsmoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging
Upon a painted tepee
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 can't believe I said
I can't believe our Warlord's 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
I've read the writing of the smoke
And breast-fed on the sound of drums
I've learned to hurl the tomahawk
And ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux
To make a chieftain's daughter mine
And now you ask that I should watch
The red man's race be slowly crushed?
What kind of words are these to hear
From Yellow Dog, whom white man fears?
With the smell of woodsmoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging
Upon a painted tepee
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 can't believe I said
I can't believe our Warlord's 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
I've read the writing of the smoke
And breast-fed on the sound of drums
I've learned to hurl the tomahawk
And ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux
To make a chieftain's daughter mine
And now you ask that I should watch
The red man's race be slowly crushed?
What kind of words are these to hear
From Yellow Dog, whom white man fears?
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