Pocahontas

Aurora borealis, the icy sky at night
Our paddles break the water in a long and hurried flight
From the white man and the fields of green
And the homeland we've never seenThey killed us in our tepee, they cut our women down
They might have left some babies cryin' on the ground
But the big guns and the wagon wheels come
Yes, and the night falls on the setting sunThey massacred the buffalo, kitty corner from the bank
The taxis run across my feet and my eyes have turned to blanks
In my little room at the top of the stairs
Yeah, with an Indian rug and a pipe to shareI wish I was a trapper, I would give thousand pelts
To sleep with Pocahontas and to find out how she felt
In the morning on the fields of green
Oh, in the homeland we've never seen