text: As I awoke this evening
  With the smell of woodsmoke clinging
  Like a gentle cobweb hanging
  Upon a painted tepee
  Oh, I went to see my chieftain
  With my warlance and my woman
  For he told us that the yellow moon
  Would very soon be leaving
  This I cant believe I said
  I cant believe our Warlords dead
  Oh, he would not leave the chosen ones
  To the buzzards and the soldiers guns
  Oh, great father of the Iroquois
  Ever since I was young
  Ive read the writing of the smoke
  And breast-fed on the sound of drums
  Ive learned to hurl the tomahawk
  And ride a painted pony wild
  To run the gauntlet of the Sioux
  To make a chieftains daughter mine
  And now you ask that I should watch
  The red mans race be slowly crushed?
  What kind of words are these to hear
  From Yellow Dog, whom white man fears?
  I take only what is mine, Lord
  My pony, my squaw, and my child
  I cant stay to see you die
  Along with my tribes pride
  I go to search for the yellow moon
  And the fathers of our sons
  Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold
  And the healing waters run
  Trampling down the prairie rose
  Leaving hoof tracks in the sand
  Those who wish to follow me
  I welcome with my hands
  I heard from passing renegades
  Geronimo was dead
  Hed been laying down his weapons
  When they filled him full of lead
  Now there seems no reason why
  I should carry on
  In this land that once was my land
  I cant find a home
  Its lonely and its quiet
  And the horse soldiers are coming
  And I think its time I strung my bow
  And ceased my senseless running
  For soon Ill find the yellow moon
  Along with my loved ones
  Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields
  Without the sound of guns
  And the red sun sinks at last
  Into the hills of gold
  And peace to this young warrior
  Comes with a bullet hole