White man came across the sea Brought us pain and misery Killed our tribes killed our creed Took our game for his own need
We fought him hard we fought him well Out on the plains we gave him hell But many came too much for Cree Oh will we ever be set free?
Riding through dustclouds and barre1n wastes Galloping hard on the plains Chasing the redskins back to their holes Fighting them at their own game Murder for freedom the stab in the back Women and chidren and cowards attack
Run to the hills run for your lives Run to the hills run for your lives
Soldier blue in the barren wastes Hunting and killing their game Raping the women and wasting the men The only good Indians are tame Selling them whiskey and taking their gold Enslaving the young and destroying the old