The Drumbeat

The forests are happy, the mountains now cheer
the streams gurgle gladly
and the Four Winds lend an ear
the scaled ones rejoice, the winged ones soar
Four leg-geds give voice
to the spirit once more

Of the drumbeat, the heartbeat
Of the Indian Nations

For us the hills live and everything breathes
We respect what they give
The rocks, the water and trees
For they were here first and we have come after
They cry and they thirst
And even show laughter

At the drumbeat, the heartbeat
Of the Indian Nations

Remember the past, the hardships endured
Our people will last
You can be reassured
We'll honor, we'll praise with dancing and song
Our voices we'll raise
With the sound growing strong

Of the drumbeat, the heartbeat
Of the Indian Nations

Season Of the People

This land where we live was ever so green
but since Columbus and ships were first seen
nearly eighty million of my people lie dead
and the land where they lived was covered in red

This was the fall of The People

The trees became bare as the land was cleared
For the fortresses built by those that we feared
The air became foul and the water did too
For the progress that they said was their due

This was the winter of The People

But our Mother the Earth will replenish Herself
And regain Her beauty and reclaim Her wealth
By natural disaster the land will come clean
When the trees return and the fields turn green

This will be the spring of The People

It took but four hundred years to destroy
Centuries will pass before we can enjoy
If given half a chance to live free once more
We'll re-learn our culture and even the score

This will be the Season of the People

The Son of A Son of an Indian

We must live in today's society
And must live just like they do
But We thrive on our Native Ancestry
Wish We could live like Them too

We live like Modern Americans
but way down deep inside
we're full-blooded Native Americans
which we're supposed to hide

But I can't, can't you see, for I am what I am
And what I am is Native American
I'm so proud, can't you see, to be what I am -
The son of a son of an Indian

They adopted me and tried to change
the reality of what I am
they tried but can't rearrange
the fact that I am an Indian

In this land I can be what I want
So long as it isn't Indian
so when I can I try to flaunt
the fact that I am an Indian

For I must, can't you see, for I am what I am
And what I am is Native American
I'm so proud, can't you see, to be what I am -
The son of a son of an Indian

I was raised as a white American
So I'd forget just what I am
But I was born Native American
And I'm proud of what I am

I was told not to say that I'm Indian
Or some day I'd live to regret it
But I am a Native American
And my soul won't let me forget it

For I can't, can't you see, I am what I am
And what I am is Native American
I'm proud, can't you see, to be what I am -
The son of a son of an Indian

My People call me a Wannabe
'Cause I'm not from a reservation
but weren't Our People once just like me -
Indian without reservation?

I was born a Native American
and I'll be one 'til the day I die
I can't let them say I'm not Indian
And I'll say, when I look 'em in the eye

Why won't you let me be to be what I am
And what I am is Native American
I'm so proud I can be so proud that I am -
The son of a son of an Indian

I'm a half-breed American...
but a full-blooded Native American

And I'm proud to be an Indian!

Song of My People

My father was full-blooded Potawatomi/Chippewa
I never got to see him when he was alive
He was raised on the island reservation in Canada
They say I have some people there who manage to survive

As a child I was grooming myself to be a Cherokee
But that's not because I'm just another "Wannabe"
By mistake I was told that was what Indian I was
They were wrong - now I know
I'm Potawatomi/Chippewa

I had wished I'd been born upon the reservation
But they tell me with the life there to be glad that I wasn't
'Cause the life that is offered on Indian reservations
Should reflect the pride of the Peoples there-but it doesn't

Someday I'll be able to go to the reservation
And I'll see all my long-lost tribal relations.
I'd be just as glad to be Apache or Seneca
But I'm happy to be a Potawatomi/Chippewa.

The Circle Of One

Wail the Wail, Roar the Roar
We survive - Our time has come
Praise the Praise, more, much more
We're alive - together We come

Many Tribes, Many Bands
Many parts form the Circle of One
Face to Face, holding Hands
Many hearts join the Circle of One

Drum the Drum, Chant the Chants
The time for union as one
Fire the Fire, Dance the Dance
the time for the Circle has come

Many Tribes, Many Bands
Many parts form the Circle of One
Face to Face, holding Hands
Many hearts join the Circle of One

Sing the Song, Light the Light
the time to rejoice has come
right the Wrong, Fight the Fight
the time for the Circle has come

Many Tribes, Many Bands
Many parts form the Circle of One
Face to Face, holding Hands
Many hearts join the Circle of One

Drum the Drum, Chant the Chants
The time for union as one
Fire the Fire, Dance the Dance
the time for the Circle has come

Many Tribes, Many Bands
Many parts form the Circle of One
Face to Face, holding Hands
Many hearts join the Circle of One.

Wevoka's Dream

Wevoka said he had a dream, and in this dream
were many things which would come to pass.
He was told that there was still a gleam
of hope we could draw from at last.

New soil of up to five grown men's heights
down upon our stolen homeland rains...
Completely burying all the evil whites...
And buffalo return to the plains.

But though he applied it to his current culture,
attempting to restore his People's heart,
I believe what he saw was a vision of future,
For which we here must play our part.

His Ghost Dance vision would be our division
from the people who try to steal our souls...
And its continuance will create a revision
in which our attempts will achieve his goals.

I firmly believe it still holds true, and we must
continue the Ghost Dance in heart and mind.
For the sake of our ancestors, it would be just
To join them, and they us, in this our time.

And our time is at hand, of that there's no doubt -

Prepare to accept all that which must come.
Mnito will drive evil foreigners out
and return back to us these lands of our home.

What Remains of Them

Whenever I hear: "There are too many deer"
In the suburban neighborhoods
I hear the deer say "Get away from here -
And stop chopping down my woods".

For they who were first seem to get the worst
that man can give the world.
We know that being first only gets you cursed
by those who would "own" the world.

How can any man claim the right to "own"
What the Great Spirit gave for free
To His Indian children, much less alone
by those who came across the sea?

But came they did, and then what they did,
Was begin to take it all away.
Our people fought and the animals hid . . .
And we're still losing our land today.

Beaver, Raccoon, and Buffalo too,
And the Indian clans named after them,
Are now all kept in some sort of zoo . . .

Or at least what remains of them.

Man vs. Mother Earth

To us Indians, snow is an indication that spring is coming soon.
Snow is necessary so that the spring thaw will bring water.
To curse the snow is as pointless as cursing the moon.
Without either, there would be no life, no love, no laughter.

That thought brings about a philosophical argument:
Why can't man live with what was given him in abundant excess
And accept it in the "Spirit" it is given? But no, he'd rather lament.
And only man eradicates man and suffers in the process.

Why is man so intent on altering what the Great Spirit created?
Isn't he content to live with the prefection that was provided?
And why isn't "what is" good enough for the man God created?
'Cause man is as good as or better than God, he's decided.

The Great Spirit creates it... then man tries to destroy it,
All the while complaining about his lot on earth . . .
Instead of learning to live with it and how to deploy it,
He proves how little the Great Sprit's gift is worth.

If there were no "technology," how bad would it really be?
There would now be clean water, rich soil, and clean air
Throughout the entire country "from sea to shining sea,"
And much less population to become its heir.

And after all that's been done we stand here and decry our fate,
Bemoaning the conditions under which we must live.
Stand... but stand up for what is right before it's too late,
Or there won't be any "us," let alone a world on which to live.

Maybe... if all of Mankind could spend the rest of its life,
Cleaning up what he and his ancestors have already done
To "better" (destroy) this world, causing all of this strife,
Our children's children will inherit a victory the world won.

My Dream

Long ago and far away
In the land that exists now, here, today
Lived a people who were proud and free
But that's all been changed by history

No one told them that they couldn't roam
They'd hunt and fish far away from home
Both the air and the waters were clean
As so many things we've never seen

How I'd love to own
the peace that they had known
my dream will always be
to set my people free

The country would abound with trees
and there would be no boundaries
to go back to when there was no greed
and kill only for the food we'd need

Oh how I'd love to own
A piece of what they'd known
and still I dream I'll see
Someday my people set free

Thunderbird

Rise up from the ashes of despair
Spread your wings and shatter the air

Oh, Thunderbird of Legends
Rise up with a vengeance
Revitalize Our People everywhere

Together we will come
To do what must be done
Those who try to stop us should beware

We're united and strong
For it's here we belong
In the land that Our Ancestors shared

We want what was ours
The freedom, the power
With the Thunderbird's Spirit We dare

To demand recognition
And Our rightful position
In this land which our Ancestors shared

Oh, Thunderbird of Legends
Arise now with a vengeance
And symbolize Our People everywhere

Indian Nations rise up and prepare
To take back what was yours if you dare

We Do

Revolt! Our advance should be backwards;
we should revert to the Cultures of Old
because the current technology's forwards
only support the vultures of gold...

For who cares, in this greed-governed land
Where what lasts is not good (obsolescence planned)
Where who gets the most, no matter the cost
And whatever is old is abandoned and lost?

We do!

Who cares about the pollution downstream
As long as it doesn't affect me and my well?
Who cares if the solution's not my dream
So long as I don't go directly to hell?

And who cares if the cities are slums
As long as the wealthy don't live there,
and the ones who do are homeless bums
'Cause those who don't really care?

We do!

Who cares that population has grown so immense
or that the rate of inflation makes no sense
or that the honest people are kept deceived
by a government which can't be believed?

Who cares if the ground below is saturated
with nuclear wastes and toxic stuff?
Who dares to stand up and voice the long awaited
"We will take no more!" and "Enough is enough!"

We do!

Return to the old ways of doing things
The True Path Our Ancestors knew -
The return to earth's harmony it brings
To travel the Red Road and be true!

Who cares that the land then flourished,
the trees, streams, lakes, and animals too?
Who cares that those who lived then were nourished
by the spirituality Their Ancestors knew?

We do!

The Earth was given Our highest respect
We treated Her like one of Us -
We didn't destroy and bring neglect
For We knew to do so was perilous.

Soon will come the time to awaken...
When the signs occur and the Earth is shaken -
For we know who cares to protect the Earth
and we know who dares to respect it's worth...

We do!

For We know the only way to change it -
If We reflect a while, We can arrange it
So that the land reverts to Those Who respect it -
Away from the rejects who only neglect it...

For if no one else cares for Our future
But those of Us Who belong to Our Culture
Then We must be the Ones to the care for the Nation
The Ones Who care for the Seventh Generation

We have, We will...We do!

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