The Children Of Indians by N. Sanford

I was also one of those:
The children who’d been taken then.
The punishment the white man chose
Was that their parents were forsaken them.  
Because they were the children of Indians.

They’d divide us so we wouldn’t fight:
That’s what they supposed back then.
They’d turn our red skin into white
And convert us to their religion.
Because we were the children of Indians.

But listen close and you can hear:
The grumbling - the eruption’s near.
We’ve been silent but now it’s time;
The earth is rumbling - the awaited sign.
For us, the children of the Indians.

The Panther streaks across the sky.
Tecumseh’s footsteps shake the earth.
We now begin to raise the cry
To rise and fight for all we’re worth.
Because we are the children of Indians.

And the Families once divided
Are gathering now to fight.
‘Cause we, the children, have long decided
We’d rather be Indian than white.
Because we are the children of Indians.

So listen close and you can hear
The grumble of the earthquakes here.
He who’s slept now gives the sign:
The rumble begins - it’s now our time . . .
We are no longer children - We are the Indians!