The prophet of the Paiute plains endeared me to him: Wovoka the Messiah from the West
I danced the Ghost Dance for days
red-faced I prayed
to “give me back my arrows.”
Blue eyes are gone
The trains will disappear as if
Union Pacific never shook hands
the plains are home again
The prophet of the Paiute plains endeared me to him: Wovoka the Messiah from the West
his words in the letter gave strength before the raid and
I’m Crazy Horse riding through the hail storm
Blue eyes are gone
The trains will disappear as if
Union Pacific never shook hands
the plains are home again
The prophet of the Paiute plains endeared me to him: Wovoka the Messiah from the West
the Savior didn’t make it to the Valley that day
and all I could see was
the dead lying there on the banks
the Hotchkiss guns and the Methodist prayers circled overhead
and all I could see was
the dead lying there on the banks
Blue eyes are gone
The trains will disappear as if
Union Pacific never shook hands
the plains are home again.