Before many moons and not so very long ago,
the prairies of the west were host to a myriad buffalo.
And the many ethnic tribes used them to subsist,
were completely dependent on them, to exist.
They used their hide for moccasins, clothes and Tepee,
they killed just for food, otherwise let them be.
Each evening by the campfires when dusk drew nigh,
they’d sing tribal songs to the great Spirit in the sky.
One fateful day the palefaces came, each one with a gun,
slaughtering the buffalo for “sport” and just for “fun.”
Left their useful carcases rotting in the midday heat,
whilst the tribesman looked on in disgust at this loathsome feat.
In their covered wagons lay huge rolls of barbed wire,
they used to fence off all the land that they desire.
Something the tribesman just could not understand,
avaricious paleface greed of owning land.
Then one day yellow metal was found in the ground,
they said it was Gold and the news soon got around..
They stampeded like buffalo, when a Cougar’s about
although the truth of the matter was somewhat in doubt.
They brought picks and shovels and barbed wire round the “claim,”
the “gold’s” too soft for arrows thought the braves with disdain.
The palefaces drank firewater which made them act strange,
they’d draw their “six shooters and shoot all within range
Soldiers soon arrived from the green pleasant land,
with bibles in their pockets and a gun in each hand.
Hoping “the red savages” to civilize,
by putting a bullet between their eyes
They came up with a solution to ”their” situation
they’d herd each native tribe on a barren reservation.
the result being right through to this day
they’re second class citizens of the good old U.S.A..