This 1970's-inspired heavy rocker examines the current state of the Native American from the point of view of a young man whose grandfather tells the stories of former times, when "air was pure and children were fed". Now, there are casinos on the reservations, which bring in boatloads of money, but is their present lifestyle really any comparison to the brave and earth-honoring ways of their ancestors?
Lyrics
Long ago, my grandfather said
This land was led by our resting dead
Air was pure and children were fed white men came and blood was shed
Now we’ve got these big casinos
Flashing lights across the sky
When we bargained how did we know their promises were hiding lies
Can we turn back the hands of time?
Strung bow buffalo thrill of the hunt gifts of the earth / bow to the sun
Pine trees prairies rivers run
White man came and then there was none
Now we live on reservations
One-armed bandit way of life
Greedy tourists on vacation
Is this the Spirit’s Grand Design?
We’ve got their cash but where’s our pride
Push broom break room wasting away punching the clock earning my pay
Long to hear my grandfather say
Hop on your horse we’re riding away