MEDICINE SONGS (2017)

1. You Got to Run (Spirit of the Wind)
– Buffy Sainte-Marie & Tanya Tagaq [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
2. The War Racket [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
3. Starwalker [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
4. My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying [lyrics]
(Buffy Sainte-Marie)
5. America The Beautiful [lyrics]
(Katherine Lee Bates & Samuel A. Ward / new music & lyrics Buffy Sainte-Marie)
6. Carry It On [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
7. Little Wheel Spin and Spin [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
8. No No Keshagesh [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
9. Soldier Blue [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
10. The Priests of the Golden Bull [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
11. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
12. Universal Soldier [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
13. Power in the Blood [lyrics] (Alabama 3, modified lyrics Buffy Sainte-Marie)
14. Disinformation [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
15. Fallen Angels [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
16. Now That the Buffalo’s Gone [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
17. Generation [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
18. Working for the Government [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
19. The Big Ones Get Away [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)
20. The War Racket [Unplugged] [lyrics] (Buffy Sainte-Marie)

LYRICS


You Got To Run (Spirit of the Wind)
[Buffy Sainte-Marie & Tanya Tagaq]

© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Learning to overcome the odds is what makes a champion, to be your own best friend beyond the money, the greed and the prize.

Whether you’re woman or whether you’re man
sometimes you got to take a stand
Just because you think you can
You got to run You got to run (2x)

Trying against the odds you’re in a trance
Say who did you think you are to have a chance
You’re a no one from a place where everyone
knows your face the come and go way they know the sun
So you better hang on and hey you better run
cause here’s your chance and your race has begun.

Down in a hole
You feel like two different people in your soul
Feel like a loser until you see that as you bend
You learn to be your own best friend
And you learn how and you learn when
to take a chance on the spirit of the wind.

Whether you’re woman or whether you’re man
sometimes you got to take a stand
Just because you think you can
You got to run You got to run

Babe ain’t we been down
Been so broke and we been so low I kissed the ground
but you can see yourself a winner beyond the
money and the greed
Beyond the pride is a pure untested need
To be a champion is more than luck and speed
It’s power and freedom in the spirit of the wind.

The War Racket
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Billionaire bullies on both sides collude in wars that suck money out of the heart of both domestic economies and into the big pockets at the top.
It’s a racket and it’s obscene.

Ooo you’re slick – you investors in hate
You Saddams and you Bushes; you Bin Ladens and snakes
You billionaire bullies; you’re a globalized curse
You put war on the masses while you clean out the purse

and that’s how it’s done war after war
You old feudal parasites just sacrifice the poor
You’ve got the cutting edge weapons but your scam’s still the same
as it’s been since the Romans: it’s the patriot game
It’s the war racket

You twisters of language; you creeps of disguise
Your disinformation; like worms in your eyes
You privileged bankers; you gambler thieves
You profit on war; there’s less money in peace

That’s how it’s done time after time
Country after country, crime after crime
You pretend it’s religion and there’s no one to blame
for the dead and impoverished in your little patriot game
Honey, that’s the war racket

Got the world’s greatest power and you team up with thugs
Make a fortune on weapons, destruction and drugs
But your flags & boots & uniforms start to all look the same
when both sides are killing in the patriot game: it’s the war racket

And that’s how it’s done, and you’ve got our sons
in the crosshairs of horror at the end of a gun
and your national anthems start to all smell the same
when all sides are dying in the patriot game
It’s the war racket

And war is never, ever holy
It’s just a greedy men’s dream
And you two-faced crusaders: both sides are obscene
War’s not made by God: War’s made by men
who misdirect our attention while you thieves do your thing

And that’s how it’s done
About every 30 years
The rich fill their coffers
The poor fill with tears
The young fill the coffins
The old hang a wreath
The politicians get photographed with their names underneath.

It’s the War Racket
It’s the patriot game
It’s the war racket

Starwalker
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Portraits of Indigenous healers, activists, wisdom keepers, health sustainers, intellectuals. Some of the names mentioned are real people.

Ayo ha ha heyo ha ha Heyo ay hey hey heyo
Way way hey wa heyo
Heyo way yaaa

Starwalker he’s a friend of mine
You’ve seen him looking fine
he’s a straight talker
he’s a Starwalker don’t drink no wine
ay way hey wa heya

Wolf Rider she’s a friend of yours
You’ve seen her opening doors
She’s a history turner
She’s a sweetgrass burner
and a dog soldier
ay hey way hey way heya

Holy light guard the night
Pray up your medicine song oh
straight dealer you’re a spirit healer
keep going on
ay hey way hey way heya

Lightning Woman Thunderchild
Star soldiers one and all oh
Sisters, Brothers and all together
Aim straight Stand tall

Ayo ha ha heyo ha ha Heyo ay hey hey heyo
Way way hey wa heyo
Heyo way yaaa

Starwalker he’s a friend of mine
You’ve seen him looking fine
he’s a straight talker
he’s a Starwalker don’t drink no wine
ay way hey wa heya

Ayo ha ha heyo ha ha Heyo ay hey hey heyo
Way way hey wa heyo
Heyo way yaaa

My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Indian 101 for people who’ve been denied the real history of how Indigenous people in North America got to be in the tragic states of affairs most suffer today: poor health, domestic insecurity and poverty. I wrote it in the 1960s before people used the word genocide or acknowledged the indigenous holocaust of the Americas, or the horror of residential schools.

Now that your big eyes are finally opened.
Now that you’re wondering, “How must they feel?”
meaning them that you’ve chased across Canada’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 splendor.
You asked for our comment, I simply will render:
My country ’tis of thy people you’re dying.

Now that the longhouses “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
Canadian history really began
when explorers set sail out of Europe,
and stress
that the nations of leeches who conquered these lands
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? And the people who died?
How a nation of patriots returned to their earth?
Where does it tell of the starvation hell?
As the children were herded, and raped and converted?
And how do we rescue the missing and murdered?
My country ‘tis of thy people you’re dying

A few of the conquered have somehow survived
Their blood runs the redder though genes have been paled.
From Arctic Inuvik to Niagara Falls
the wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale.
From Vancouver Island to the Labrador Sea
the white nation fattened while others grew lean.
Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean:
My country ’tis of thy people you’re dying.
The past it just crumbled; the future just threatens
Our life blood is shut up in your papers and banks.
And now here you come, bill of sale in your hand
and surprise in your eyes, that we’re lacking in thanks
for the blessings of civilization you brought us
The lessons you’ve taught us. The ruin you’ve wrought us.
Oh see what our trust in O Canada got us.
My country ’tis of thy people you’re dying.

Now that the pride of the sires needs 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 hearts
we salute you your victory.
Choke on your true white and scarlet hypocrisy,
pitying your blindness; Oh why can’t you see –
that the eagles of war whose wings lend you glory,
are never no more than buzzards & crows
Pushed some wrens from their nest;
stole their eggs; changed their story.
The mockingbird sings it: It’s all that she knows.
“Aw what could I do?” say a powerful few
with a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye.
Can’t you see that their poverty’s profiting you?
My country ’tis of thy people you’re dying.

America The Beautiful
Original words by Katherine Lee Bates and Samuel A. Ward
© New Music & Lyrics by Buffy Sainte-Marie
I wrote two new sections to the classic song by Katherine Lee Bates and Samuel Ward.

There were Choctaws in Alabama
Chippewas in St. Paul
Mississippi mud runs like a river in me
America – Oo she’s like a mother to me

O beautiful for spacious skies
For amber waves of grain
For purple mountain majesty
Above the fruited plain

America, America
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
from sea to shining sea
from sea to shining sea

There were cliff towns in Colorado
Pyramids in Illinois
Trade routes up and down the Mississippi River to see
America – Oo she’s like a mother to me…

O beautiful for vision clear
that sees beyond the years
Thy night time sky
Our hopes that fly
undimmed by human tears

America, America
God shed His grace on thee
Til selfish gain no longer stain
the banner of the free

And crown thy good with brotherhood
from sea to shining sea
from sea to shining sea

Carry It On
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
This is my favorite song. It reboots me and sets me straight, whatever’s going on.

Hold your head up
Lift the top of your mind
Put your eyes on the Earth
Lift your heart to your own home planet
What do you see?
What is your attitude?
Are you here to improve or damn it?

Look right now
and you will see we’re only
here by the skin of our teeth as it is
so take heart and take care of your
link with Life and

Oh carry it on We’re saying
Oh carry it on Keep playing
Oh carry it on Keep praying
Oh carry it on

It ain’t money that makes the world go round
That’s only temporary confusion
It ain’t governments that make the people strong
It’s the opposite illusion

Look right now
and you will see they’re only
here by the skin of their teeth as it is
so take heart and take care of your link with Life and

Oh carry it on We’re saying
Oh carry it on Keep playing
Oh carry it on Keep praying
Oh carry it on

Look right now
and you will see we’re only
here by the skin of our teeth
as it is
so take heart and take care
of your link with

Life is beautiful
if you got the sense to take
care of your source of perfection
Mother Nature
She’s the daughter of God
and the source of all protection

Look right now
and you will see she’s only
here by the skin of her teeth as it is
so take heart and take care of your
link with Life

Oh carry it on We’re saying
Oh carry it on Keep playing
Oh carry it on Keep praying
Oh carry it on

Oh carry it on Keep saying
Oh carry it on Keep playing
Oh carry it on Keep on praying
Oh carry it on

Little Wheel Spin and Spin
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
The little hatreds we host in our hearts add up to be the big things we hate about the world.
The gear-like interaction of private and public actions, what goes around comes around.

Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Merry Christmas Jingle Bells
Christ is born and the devil’s in hell
Hearts they shrink Pockets swell
Everybody know and nobody tell
Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Oh the sins of Caesar’s men
cry the pious citizens
who petty thieve the 5 & 10s
and the big wheels turn around and around
Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Blame the angels, blame the fates,
Blame the Jews or your sister Kate
Teach your children how to hate
and the big wheels turn around and around
Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Turn your back on weeds you’ve hoed
silly sinful seeds you’ve sowed
Add your straw to the camel’s load
and the big wheels turn around and around
Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Swing your girl fiddler say
Later on the piper pay
Do see do, swing and sway
Dead will dance on judgment day
Little Wheel Spin and Spin
Big wheels turn around & around
Wake up! The greed that ate us will also eat you.

No No Keshagesh
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Keshagesh means “greedy guts” in Cree. It was the name of a puppy who would eat his own dinner, and then want everybody else’s too.
The song is about counterbalancing environmental greed.

I never saw so many business suits
Never knew a dollar sign could look so cute
Never knew a junkie with a money jones
Who’s buying Park Place? Who’s buying Boardwalk?

These old men they make their dirty deals
Go in the back room and see what they can steal
Talk about your beautiful for spacious skies
It’s about uranium. It’s about the water rights

Got Mother Nature on a luncheon plate
They carve her up and call it real estate
Want all the resources and all of the land
They make a war over it; they blow things up for it

The reservation out at Poverty Row
There’s something cookin and the lights are low
Somebody’s tryin to save our Mother Earth I’m gonna
Help em to Save it and Sing it and Pray it singin

No No Keshagesh you can’t do that no more.

Ol Columbus he was lookin good
When he got lost in our neighborhood
Garden of Eden right before his eyes
Now it’s all spyware Now it’s all income tax

Ol Brother Midas lookin hungry today
What he can’t buy he’ll get some other way
Send in the troopers if the Natives resist
Same old story, boys; that’s how ya do it boys

Look at these people Lord they’re on a roll
Gotta have it all Gotta have complete control
Want all the resources and all of the land
They break the law over it; blow things up for it

While all our champions are off in the war
Their final ripoff here at home is on
Mister Greed I think your time has come I’m gonna
Sing it and Pray it and Live it and Say it singing

No No Keshagesh you can’t do that no more.

Soldier Blue
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
This song is more ma-triotic than patriotic. Think crickets, not guns.
A contrast between the nation-state America and natural North America, from toe to crown.

I’ll tell you a story and it’s a true one and I’ll tell it like you understand
And I ain’t gonna talk like some history maid.
I look out and I see a land.
Young and lovely. Hard and strong
For fifty thousand years we’ve danced her praises.
Prayed our thanks and we’ve just begun. Yes, Yes

Yes this is my country.
Young and growing.
Free and flowing. Sea to sea.
Yes, this is my country.
Ripe and bearing miracles
in every pond and tree.

Her spirit walks the high country.
She’s giving free wild samples.
And setting an example how to give.
Yes this is my country
Retching and turning
She’s like a baby learning how to live

I can stand upon a hill at dawn
Look all around me.
Feel her surround me.
Soldier blue
Can’t you see her life has just begun
Beating inside us.
Telling us she’s here to guide us.

OO Soldier blue, Soldier blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her.

This is my country
I sprang from her
And I’m learning how to count upon her.
Tall trees and the corn is high country.
Yes I love her.
And I’m learning how to take care of her

Whenever the news stories get me down
I take a drink of freedom to think of
North America from toe to crown
It’s never long before
I know just why I belong here

Soldier Blue, Soldier Blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her?

The Priests of the Golden Bull
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Uranium is a presence in Indian Country, and so are predatory energy companies.
The Windego is a greed monster like the European idea of a vampire.

Who brought the bomb wrapped in business cards and stained with steak?
Who hires a maid to wash his money?
Who keeps politicians on the take?
Who puts outspoken third-worlders in jail just to shut them down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the truth is still the same, even in this town
Their tongues are silver forks
There’s a lack of wisdom
You can hear it on their breath
Windego

Third Worlders see it first: the dynamite, the dozers, the cancer and the acid rain
The corporate caterpillars come into our backyards and turn the world to pocket change
Reservations are the nuclear front line;
uranium poisoning kills
We’re starving in a handful of gluttons
We’re drowning in their gravy spills
Money junkies all over the world
trample us on their way to the bank
They run in every race
Windego

It’s delicate confronting these priests of the golden bull
They preach from the pulpit of the bottom line
Their minds rustle with billion dollar bills
You say Silver burns a hole in your pocket and Gold burns a hole in your soul
Well, Uranium burns a hole in forever
It just gets out of control
There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile
He raised a crooked sixpence to hide a crooked style
He won a crooked vote and smiled a crooked smile
Windego

Their tongues are silver forks
There’s a lack of wisdom
You can hear it on their breath
Windego.

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
The theft of uranium lands from the Pine Ridge reservation during the Nixon administration led to incidents
involving Annie Mae Aquash, Joe Stuntz and Leonard Peltier.

Indian legislation’s on the desk of a do-right Congressman
Now, he don’t know much about the issue
so he picks up the phone and he asks advice of the
senators out in Indian country
Darlings of the energy companies who are
ripping off what’s left of the reservations. Huh.
I learned a safety rule
I don’t know who to thank
Don’t stand between the reservations and the
corporate banks They send in federal tanks
It isn’t nice but it’s reality
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Deep in the Earth
Cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee. Huh.
They got these energy companies
who want the land
and they’ve got churches by the dozen want to
guide our hands and sign our
Mother Earth over to pollution, war and greed
Get rich… get rich quick.
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Deep in the Earth
Cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
We got the federal marshals
We got the covert spies
We got the liars by the fire
and we got the FBIs
They lie in court and get nailed
and still Peltier goes off to jail
Hey the bullets didn’t match the gun
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Deep in the Earth
Cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
My girlfriend Annie Mae talked about uranium
Her head was filled with bullets and her body dumped
The FBIs cut off her hands and told us she’d died of exposure Loo loo loo
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Deep in the Earth
Cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
We had the Gold Rush Wars
Aw, didn’t we learn to crawl and still our
history gets
written in a liar’s scrawl
They tell ya “Honey, you can still be an Indian
d-d-down at the ‘Y’ on Saturday nights” No
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Deep in the Earth
Cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.

Universal Soldier
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
A song I wrote in 1961 about individual responsibility for the world we’re living in. I wish it didn’t still make sense.

He’s five foot two and he’s six foot four
He fights with missiles and with spears
He’s all of 31 and he’s only 17
He’s been a soldier for a thousand years

He’s a Catholic, a Hindu, an atheist, a Jain,
A Buddhist, and a Baptist and a Jew
And he knows he shouldn’t kill
and he knows he always will
Kill you for me, my friend, and me for you

He’s fighting for Canada.
He’s fighting for France.
He’s fighting for the USA
and he’s fighting for the Russians
and he’s fighting for Japan
And he thinks he’ll put an end to war this way

He’s fighting for democracy,
he’s fighting for the Reds
He says it’s for the peace of all
He’s the one who must decide
who’s to live and who’s to die
And he never sees the writing on the wall

But without him how would Hitler have
condemned him at Dachau
Without him Caesar would’ve stood alone
He’s the one who gives his body as a weapon to a war
and without him all this killing can’t go on

He’s the universal soldier and he is really is to blame
But his orders come from far away no more
They come from him and you and me
and Brothers, can’t you see
this is not the way we put an end to war?

Power in the Blood
© Words & Music by Alabama 3
Modified words by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Contemporary issues: You can kill me but you can’t provoke me into becoming a killer.
I modified A3’s original violent lyrics and turned it into a peace song, with A3’s blessing.

GMO GMO has got to go
Power in the blood Power in the blood

No time for spin-doctors’ medicine
from corporation government
selling me some cover-up
Weaponizing pesticides;
poison in my groceries
Nothing but another drug,
a license they can buy and sell

I don’t mind dying
Well I don’t mind dying
I don’t mind dying
But when that call it comes I will say
no no no to war

No time for backhanded compliments
From television anchor men
desperate for an incident
Real estate assassins
exploiting our predicament
Everything depends upon it
being in their interests

No I don’t mind dying
I don’t mind dying
I don’t mind dying
When that call it comes,
I will say no no no to war

There is power in the blood,
justice in the soul
and when that call it comes I will say
no no no to war

Power in the blood,
justice in the soul
When that call it comes I will say
no no no to war

There’s military interest,
GMOs in paradise
bio-weapons
high up on the call sheet
Young soldiers driving tanks
but old thieves they drive the banks
and you never see a
uniform on Wall Street

There is power in the blood

I don’t mind dying
I don’t mind the dying
I don’t mind dying
When that call it comes
I will say no no no to war

Disinformation
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie

Coincidence and likely stories
they dog your trail like a pack of lies
They whine at night when the lights are out
You toss and turn
You pitch and roll
Disinformation, you spin it like a silkworm
Just when I need another point of view
here you come from nowhere
from over the waves
I stand amazed
I see your greatest hits
they blow back down the chimney
into everyone’s eyes
Creative thinking in the first degree
You’re a three-way mirror
of a one-way world
It’s a perverse company you work for
They build the past
It just can’t last
It’s obsolete by design
They send you out rerouting history
to make the same old mistakes
in a brand new way
Come out from under cover
Ollie Ollie in free
Come out come out wherever you are
And virgin places don’t mean a thing
to people who never bring their
hearts along
and fools like them never fall at all
They’re tough as sin, let nobody in
They turn and spin your wheels
and nobody wins
Coincidence and likely stories
they dog your trail like a pack of lies
They whine at night when the lights are out
You toss and turn
You pitch and roll
Disinformation, you spin it like a silkworm.

Fallen Angels
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie

Fallen Angels
Fallen Angels

I got a man in the business line
He power hungry, he’s a money mine
Smooth as satin he’s a big time shark
Fallen Angel
I got a brother, oo he mean as sin
He got a brother who’s just like him
Living over in Moscow, 2 of a kind.
How come the great power got the
junkie mind

Fallen Angels
never get enough
Fallen Angels oo oo
They got the addictions
Fallen Angels
They litter the skies
Fallen Angels
Don’t you wanna turn ’em around
Turn ’em around

I got a man in the USA
He runnin’ guns with the CIA
He’s the best that being bad can be
Who’d think he do it all for me
What’s it matter if you’re green or red
The Yankee dollar or the commie threat
When the real power in the real world
Gonna deny it all anyway

Fallen Angels
They never get enough
Fallen Angels oo oo
They got the addictions
Fallen Angels
They litter the skies
Fallen Angels
Don’t you wanna turn ’em around
Turn ’em around

You believe in the system from the top on down
Potential is a beautiful thing
It’s hard to keep believing in the big time
Now you’re sinking in the wind
Star light, star bright
Somebody going down tonight
Told the truth when it was time to lie
You know you got it right

Fallen Angels
They never gel enough
Fallen Angels hoo hoo
They got the addictions
Fallen Angels
They litter the skies
Fallen Angels
Don’t you wanna turn ’em around
Turn ’em around

Fallen Angels
They never get enough
Fallen Angels hoo hoo
They got the addictions
Fallen Angels
They litter the skies
Fallen Angels
Don’t you wanna turn ’em around
Turn ’em around Turn ’em around

Now That the Buffalo’s Gone
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
This is the first song about Indigenous people most radio listeners ever heard. Although it’s about a specific incident (the breaking of a treaty and eviction of the Senecas to build Kinzua Dam for which there were other alternative sites), the song was used to spotlight many similar issues in the 1960s and 1970s.

Can you remember the times
that you have held your head high
and told all your friends of your Indian claim
Proud good lady and proud good man
Some great great grandfather from Indian blood came
and you feel in your heart for these ones

Oh it’s written in books and in song
that we’ve been mistreated and wronged
Well over and over I hear those same words
from you good lady and you good man
Well listen to me if you care where we stand
and you feel you’re a part of these ones

When a war between nations is lost
the loser we know pays the cost
but even when Germany fell to your hands
consider dear lady, consider dear man
you left them their pride and you left them their land
and what have you done to these ones

Has a change come about my dear man
or are you still taking our lands
A treaty forever your senators sign
They do dear lady, they do dear man
and the treaties are broken again and again
and what will you do for these ones

Oh it’s all in the past you can say
but it’s still going on here today
The governments now want
the Lakota land
that of the Inuit and the Cheyenne
It’s here and it’s now
you can help us dear man
Now that the buffalo’s gone.

Generation
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie

Kids were sent from heaven inside to lead you to the future
Wrap their eyes in blindfolds and still they’ll find their way
Blind their lives with pills and lies and still they find their vision
And soon they’ll leave you to your yesterday

And they’ll sing bye bye scars of history
And bye bye bankers’ trust
Aquarius is shining and the sun is one of us
And me I don’t wanna go to the moon
I’m gonna leave that moon alone
I just want to dance with the Rosebud Sioux this summer
Yes, yes, yes

The media is saturated but the sweetgrass still grows tall
And Jesse John Blackbear talks to God in Cleveland, O-hi-yo
And Washington is joking but the Navajos are not
And the Senecas just arrived in Arizona.

I talked to seven congressmen, their ears were filled with gold
That their grandfathers had stolen out of the Black Hills
And round and round the dance goes on and the children are idle no more
And they will dream the dream my Mother sends to them.

And they’ll sing bye bye scars of History
And bye bye bankers’ trust
Your Aquarius is shining Honey but the Son is one of us
And me I don’t wanna go to the moon
I’m gonna leave that moon alone
I just want to dance with the Rosebud Sioux this summer
Yes, yes, yes Wait for me you brown eyed man

Working For the Government
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
A little tongue in cheek powwow rocker about some of our favorite assassins like James Bond and G.I. Joe.

The neighbors like him
Think he’s a great guy
He wears a neck tie
He workin for the government

He get you elected
He take the heat y’all
He know the plan yeah he’s
Workin for the government

Civil servant y’all
Mufti uniform
He keep a place in town he
Workin for the government

He keep his mouth shut
Nobody know him
He G.I. Joe y’all he
Workin for the government

Love come around
He never feel a thing
He see right through it all he
Workin for the government

High places Low places
Man of influence
Mister Invisible he
Workin for the government

Hot war Cold war
M-m-m-money and guns
It’s all the same to him he
Workin for the government

Your country My country
Gun for hire y’all
Mercenary 101 he
Workin for the government

He’s a pro-fessional
He James Bond y’all
He come from nowhere he
Workin for the government

Up town down town
Anywhere the chips come down he
Your town my town he
Workin for the government

The Big Ones Get Away
© Words & Music by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Hey, Baby I just got back from town
Where the bribes are paid
Honey, they turned my offer down
They say the deal’s already made
So now I gotta stand and watch
While it all comes down
And the buzzards and the hawks
And the judges and the mob
Circle round

Now if I were the queen of all the world
I would go in chains just to see you free
Of the ropes that bind you
And the role you play
And the pride that hooks you
While the big ones get away

Love junkies wanna change the world:
It quickly stays the same
and money junkies hire all the smart ones
Power junkies run the game

One step at a time
Polarity Hill
If the bad guys don’t get you, baby
Then the good guys will
With angels on the take
and the gangsters in the yard
Hey don’t the wars come easy
Hey don’t the peace come hard

And if I had a way to reach the sky
I’d grab that crescent moon
wield it like a knife
and save you from your lies

And the ropes that bind you
and the role you play
and the game that hooks you
while the big ones get away.

The “game that hooks you” refers to corrupt politics, the social climbing, the cock blocking that makes a guy betray himself in order to get ahead in the pecking order, presumably to hit a home run for the home team. And while his opportunities to make a real difference get away from him, the racketeers get away with murder.


WP-Backgrounds Lite by InoPlugs Web Design and Juwelier Schönmann 1010 Wien