Oh give me a home 
Where the buffalo roam 
And the death of a race is a game 
Where seldom is heard 
peacable word 
From the white trash 
Who killed as they came 
Though these words dig deep 
They offer no relief 
God save the queen 
I am an indian chief 
There is a secret I keep 
It's called the talking leaf 
And you better believe 
That he speaks his beliefs 
Like a rock that bleeds 
sea of grief 
My talking leaf speaks of 
wounded knee creek 
American ghost dance... 

new man who is with old ways 
He walks the streets of life 
But he's in chains 
I'm alive he cried 
I can feel the flame 
Burning red inside 
I am an indian brave 
There is a memory 
That lives in my blood 
Of the brand you laid 
On all you touched 
But the burning flame 
Turns to burning pain 
Genuine genocide 
And that's [bad word] insane 
So like a wild hurricane 
I will dance on the grave 
Of my race that died 
When it should have been saved