Songwriter: Michael Danckert
(verse)I'm not sayin I can change the past. I'm not sayin anything lasts. I'm not sayin I can make it rain - or bring back anybody again.
I'm not one to believe in a curse - go wishin anyone the worst. But don't you think a price is paid - for every broken promise made.
From the trail of tears to Wounded Knee the fate of the Creek and the Cherokee. The giant spirit snake fortold and we shall lose what we now hold.
(verse) You may say we weren't the ones. You may say what's done is done. You may not believe your eyes - when that big black cloud fills up the sky. And to the beat of the Shamans drum - ghosts of the lost tribes come. Like a rolling thunder all around - from every sacred burial ground.
(verse outro) In the moaning sigh of the falling pine - in the rumbling walls of the silver mine. In the pounding waves of the ancient stone - in the rattling pile of the caribou bones. In the warning call of the great black bird - in the mighty roar of the buffalo herd. In the howling cry of the lone wolfs' song - you'll hear them sixty million strong. Sixty million strong. Sixty million strong.
Oh-ohhh (chant fade to end)