Charge Into History

What do we know of Yellow Hair.
Custer Commander of the Seventh.
The one who raided settlements
of Black Kettle of the Cheyenne.

Custer, commander of the seventh
known killer on the Washita.
He charged when the brave men were gone
hunting dwindled buffalo herds.

The one who raided settlements
to drive Indians off the plains
as railroad cut habitat.
The Sioux losing their homeland.

Of Black Kettle from the Cheyenne.
The old chief would never survive
this charge like the one at Sand Creek.
They were all mowed down in cold blood.

This was part of his legacy.
The want to be hero of war.
He was known to push men to death.
All for his own fortune and fame.

The want to be hero of war
known for his flair in hats and skin.
He drilled his men tirelessly
and threatened to shoot more than one.

He was known to push men to death
and would leave others behind
eighteen soldiers at Washita
killed by returning warriors.

All for his own fortune and fame.
His future as politician.
He had to ride out one more time.
A place called The Little Bighorn.

He looked out upon the Big horn.
A morning that was crisp and clear.
He thought about the dreams he had.
Of soldiers falling off horses.

A morning that was crisp and clear.
Camp smoke was drifting easily.
The bands had gathered together.
For there was strength in great numbers.

He thoughts about the dreams he had.
Thoughts about the battle before,
With general Crook at the Rosebud.
He hoped that was not the dream.

Of soldiers falling off horses.
He revisited sufferings
battles lost, cries of starving babes.
This land they were losing for gold.

They formed into their battle lines.
A third with Reno on one end.
The rest with Custer's command.
Bugles called the battle began.

The broke into their battle lines.
Reno crossed the river halfway
and was beaten back by gunfire.
The Sioux were not running away.

The rest under Custer's command
they trotted then began their charge.
Yellow hair yipping out a war cry.
He was becoming history.

The bugle called the battle began.
Women and children held each other.
Warriors grabbed their best rifle.
This time the warriors were home.

It was over in a short space
The time it takes to eat your lunch.
Warriors using the terrain
with love of family in their hearts.

The time it takes to eat your lunch
the world's great light calvary
swiftly outflanked the boy general.
Over two hundred fifty fell.

Warriors using the terrain
decimated the skirmish lines.
The soldiers were falling like rain
Sitting Bull's dream was coming true.

With love of family in their hearts
and leadership of Crazy Horse.
The blue coats were quickly routed.
The women joining the field.

They cut up each and every one.
Maimed in this life maimed in the next.
But there were feelings of revenge.
The whites had killed many of them.

Maimed in life maimed in the next.
The Summer grasses stained with blood.
The clothing ripped from Yellow Hair.
He lay nothing more than a man.

But, there were feelings of revenge
co-mixed now joy of victory.
Sitting Bull new it was the end.
Now they would need to separate.

The whites had killed many of them:
And for what the whites had lost they
would send soldiers matching the stars.
They packed up and headed northward.

This is a story of people.
They are the result of hatred
for the bronze color of their skin.
For the land on which they roamed free.

They are the result of hatred.
Victims of untold genocide.
Forced to adhere to poverty
Their story cannot stay silent.

For the bronze color of their skin
and the simpleness of their ways
They were overwhelmed by those who
live by a darker code of greed.

For the land on they roamed free.
Their ghost travel far deep and wide,
waiting for their day to return
to their ways of simple freedom.