They lived their life many a moon ago,
Over land and sands of time,
Living amongst their own people,
Living a life so good and fine!
Along they came and took their land,
Made them give it all up and move on,
Taking away their very existence,
Oh what, oh what have they done!
They had taken away their life!
And they became a nonentity…
Made to live in a way they shouldn't,
And it so hurts the heart of me.
I feel for their pain and their loss,  
I feel for the way they were sad,
I feel every pain like I'm living it,
And it feels oh, so very bad…
I ponder on the way they must have felt,
Having their lives torn apart!
And I wonder oft what they really felt,
As they were damaged in the heart!
For to lose all that they held dear,
Must have been oh so sad and in such pain!
To be ousted out, move out and on…
Never to live their way again…
But History will never die!
And I believe that God is just and true!
Those who created those things…
Should face their maker and stand trial too!
Live and let live is something I do,
And I think that throughout life this day,
Everyone else should stop interfering!
And let the people have their say!!
Through the Black Hills, mountains and plains,
A huge river of pain runs deep!
The sand and heat and sun…
And the Indians, they, who weep!
And History shows to the world this day,
the very existence of that clan!
And all the hurt they suffered so…
At the hands of a callous thing called, man!