Many a story is told
Of the day my ancestors
Left our People,
And let the Sun go dark.

It was before my time
Before my father’s
A time my Grandfather
Was still a child.

They lived on the plains.
They loved on the plains.
They lived for the plains of our ancestors
My People did.

They fought on those plains
That they had worked so hard to keep.
They fought the spineless white men,
Who tried to steal it away.

They lived on the plains.
They loved on the plains.
They lived for the plains of our ancestors.
And then they died on the plains of our ancestors.