Apache Dusk Somewhere In the derelict trailers And tin shacks With eyes of steel And hair the color of crow's wings There must be hope There must be one Who knows about Cochise And of Crazy Horse And of Sitting Bull One who wants to be a brave One who reads Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee By light of bare bulb What have we done to the Elders? Left them in hovels to die. Is there one who knows of Geronimo Amidst the burned stores And boarded up shops Among the young dressed and walking Like MTV gangstas? Would he say "Geronimo was defeated by the white man… Puff Daddy wasn't" Will I, wasicu, ever have the opportunity To give something back? The truly noble are not judged by wins or losses But by truth of character and nobility of cause It will not happen today For night is falling And if they do not judge their own By nobility and intent anymore I cannot expect it either My doors are locked And though I pass with great respect The burden of my ancestors' cause The great weight of this scene Bearing down on my heart I will not even slow down The casino stands glittering Apache Gold They have finally found What is truly sacred to the white man And are taking it for their own use The Indian's revenge I hope they make a billion dollars And I hope the poison of wasicu greed Does not rub off the bills And the people a few miles back Can replaster and rebuild And teach their children With eyes of steel And hair the color of crow's wings To be warriors   ©2004 VanDweller