Buffy Sainte-Marie {@ Gypsy Boy Music} '66~'69 ...


NOW
that your
big eyes are
finally opened: now that
you're wondering, "How must
they feel?" Meaning them that
you've chased cross America's movie screens;
NOW that you're wondering, "How can it be real?"
That the ones you've called colorful. noble and proud in your school propaganda,
They starve in their splendour.
You asked for our comment, I simply will render:
My country 't is of they people you're dying!

Now that the long houses "breed superstition" you force us to send our children away to your schools
where they're taught to despise their traditions, forbid them their languages;
Then further say that American history really began when Columbus set sail out of Europe and stress
that the nations of leeches who conquered this land were the biggest, and bravest, and boldest, and best?

And yet where in your history books is the tale of the genocide basic to this country's birth?

Of the preachers who lied?

How the Bill of Rights failed?

How a nation of patriots returned to their earth?

And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell as it rang with a thud over Kinzua mud?

Or of barve Uncle Sam in Alaska this year?

MY COUNTRY 'T IS OF THY PEOPLE YOU'RE DYING!


HEAR
how the
bargain was made
for West, with her shivering children in zero degrees!
"Blankets for your land" ~ so the treaties attest!
Oh well, blankets for land, that's a batgain indeed!
And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected from smallpox diseased dying soldiers that day!
And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored a hundred years of your statesmen say,
"It's better this way!"

BUT
a few
of the conquered
have somehow survived and
their blood runs the redder
though genes have been paled!

From the Grand Canyon's caverns to Craven's sad hills the wounded, the losers, the robed sing their tale!

From Los Angelos County to upstate New York, the white nation fattens while others grow lean!

Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean:
MY COUNTRY 'T IS OF THY PEOPLE YOU'RE DYING!


NOW
that the
pride of the
sires receives charity. Now
that we're harmless and safe
behind laws. Now that my life's
to be known as your heritage. Now
that even the graves have been robbed!

Now that our own chosen way is your novelty!
Hands on our herats we salute you your victory:
choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy!
Pitying your blindness; How you never see ~
that the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory, were never no more than buzzards & crows:
Pushed some wrens from their nesy; Stole their eggs; changed their story!

The mockingbird sings it;
It's all that she knows.

"Oh what can I do?", say a powerless few.
With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye:
Can't you see how their poverty's profiting you?

My
country 't
is of thy
people you're
dying
...



DAT
gold van
voor 't Romeinse
wereldrijk met haar z.g. Pax Romana
tot en met vandaag de mydidag:
ondanks alles
...

engel
geschokt
blozen
15 mrt 2009 - meld ongepast verhaal
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Profielfoto van Asih
Asih, man, 80 jaar
   
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