Oh Sunny of the painted word
Yet not before your name I heard
And then as if perhaps perchance
I saw Pawnee Indians dance
The painting of a native child
Natives of Red Indians wild
Then in my breast my heart did pound
As then I heard the war drums sound
I knew that in my life before,
I’d fought in this such futile war
Had seen the the evil done by whites
Who killed as if it were their rights
SO let us hang our heads in shame
For WE must also take the blame.