Pocahontas

Aurora borealis, the icy sky at night

Our paddles break the water in a long and hurried flight

From the white man and the fields of green

And the homeland we've never seenThey killed us in our tepee, they cut our women down

They might have left some babies cryin' on the ground

But the big guns and the wagon wheels come

Yes, and the night falls on the setting sunThey massacred the buffalo, kitty corner from the bank

The taxis run across my feet and my eyes have turned to blanks

In my little room at the top of the stairs

Yeah, with an Indian rug and a pipe to shareI wish I was a trapper, I would give thousand pelts

To sleep with Pocahontas and to find out how she felt

In the morning on the fields of green

Oh, in the homeland we've never seen