From ancestors, traditions handed down,

Taught by a father, lessons from a chief.

Their way was not the white mans’ way,

Born on the land, that which was precious.

That which was sacred, heart of the Indian,

Fought for that which was believed in.

They hunted for food, they did not waste,

Used the land to survive all the days.

An Indian brave, a warrior man,

Afraid not of death, fore another life they will have.

Keith Garrett

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