Pocahontas

Aurora borealis

The icy sky at night

Paddles cut the water

In a long and hurried flight

From the white man

to the fields of green

And the homeland

we've never seen.They killed us in our tepee

And they cut our women down

They might have left some babies

Cryin' on the ground

But the firesticks

and the wagons come

And the night falls

on the setting sun.They massacred the buffalo

Kitty corner from the bank

The taxis run across my feet

And my eyes have turned to blanks

In my little box

at the top of the stairs

With my Indian rug

and a pipe to share.I wish a was a trapper

I would give thousand pelts

To sleep with Pocahontas

And find out how she felt

In the mornin'

on the fields of green

In the homeland

we've never seen.