Tribal

Sun burns my back No saddle on horse Hunting our food source With Bow and arrow Tomahawk on hip Prepare for a trip Meet enemy on dry plains Who wins war will gain Eagles high in sky Clouds obscure their attack Rabbits flee, try to escape A feathered bullet from above Water is scarce Collecting morning dew Tanning hides of buffalo What remains, is few Firewater devastates Evil men it creates Of all colours It does not discriminate Our women, forced to wear gowns Our men, put in the ground Children lose ways of the old As men of cloth, say "behold" Time will reconcile It is not docile Forever it feels All will kneel The lands will heal Water will replenish Soon after mankind is diminished Man will decimate man There is no other plan The lands will renew Will regrow As soon as mankind is diminished See's its finish