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Out in the desert Where the wind never stops A few simple people Try to grow a few crops Try to maintain their life and their home On a land that was theirs before the Romans started Rome.
A few simple survivors, ragged but proud With a few woolly sheep under gathering clouds It's never been easy or free from strife But the pulse of the land is the pulse of their life.
Chorus You thought it was over but it's just like before Will there never be an end to the Indian wars? You thought it was over but it's just like before Will there never be an end to the Indian wars?
It's not breech loading rifles or wholesale slaughter It's kickbacks and thugs and diverted waters Treaties got signed and the papers changed hands But they may as well draft those agreements in sand.
Noble Savage on the cinema screen An Indian's good when he cannot be seen But the so-called White So-called Race Digs for themselves a pit of disgrace.
