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As I awoke this evening With the smell of wood smoke clinging Like a gentle cobweb hanging Upon a painted tepee Oh, I went to see my chieftain With my warlance and my woman For he told us that the Yellow Moon Would very soon be leaving "This I can't believe", I said "I can't believe our warlord's dead Oh, he would not leave the chosen ones To the buzzards and the soldiers' guns" Oh, Great Father of the Iroquois Ever since, I was young I've read the writing of the smoke And breastfed on the sound of drums I've learned to hurl the tomahawk And ride a painted pony wild To run the gantlet of the Sioux To make a chieftain's daughter mine And now you ask that I should watch The red man's race be slowly crushed What kind of words are these to hear From Yellow Dog whom a white man fears? I take only what is mine, Lord My pony, my squaw, and my child Oh, I can't stay here to see you die Along with my tribe's pride I go to search for the Yellow Moon And the fathers of our sons Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold And the healin' waters run Tramplin' down the prairie rose Leavin' hoof tracks in the sand Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands I heard from passin' renegades Geronimo was dead He'd been layin' down his weapons When they filled him full of lead Now there seems no reason Why I should carry on In this land that once was my land I can't find a home It's lonely and it's quiet And the horse soldiers are comin' And I think it's time I strung my bow And ceased my senseless running For soon I'll find the Yellow Moon Along with my loved ones Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields Without the sound of guns And the red sun sinks at last Into the hills of gold And peace to this young warrior Comes with a bullet hole