Greasy Grass

Here stands a man looking so forlorne
His horse is dying, his clothes all torn,
He rode through the creek
He rode through the village
His cries they carried through the still of the dawn.

The soldiers marched with blood on their minds,
Their one thought was to rid all of our kind.
They rode through the creek
They rode through the camp
The footprints were left in the dewy grass.

I hear the shouts,
I hear the screams
I see a soldier crossing the stream.
I see the flare from a gun,
I see my people afraid, they start to run.

They run to the north,
They run to the south
I see a soldier with blood from his mouth.
They run to the east,
They run to the west
The guns were blazing, no time to rest.

The children are running,
The old ones are crying
Our warriors appear, no time to think.
The soldiers they look
The soldiers they scatter.

A golden haired man
Upon a white horse
Shouts to his men, "We'll rid them all."
The soldiers all shooting,
The soldiers start running.

Onto the plains
Away from the camp
The warriors lured the soldiers away
Bullets were flying
Arrows were swift
But death must come to the intruders

When the smoke had cleared away
The dead were left dying
The dying were screaming.
The calvery had lost on this fateful day
Our people victorious
Our people were glad,
But this was to be the start of our end.