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 seen

They 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 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 litte room at the top of the stairs
With an Indian rug and a pipe to share

I wish a 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
In the homeland we've never seen

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