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 'tis of thy 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 brave Unlce Sam in Alaska this year?
My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.
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