LAKOTA

Bobby Bridger

(Narration)

“I’ve been expecting you grandson”,

the old man spoke low.

He was colored like brown earth

All covered with snow.

“My name is Black Elk,

And I’m a Sioux man,

I am a Lakota,

Of the Oglala band.

Crazy horse was my cousin

Red Cloud was my chief.

Wounded Knee calls to me still in my sleep.

I went with Sitting Bull in the Wild West show,

Cody took us to Europe, with Cheyenne and Arapaho.

And we all signed our names upon talking leaves,

And we met kings and princesses, beggar and thieves.

Sitting Bull rode a trick horse,

But not in the show.

And now he has gone,

Where all brave hearts go.

Now those Lakota are gone, where all brave hearts go.

Grandson, this vision I’m remembering to you.

Is my own life story, so I know that it’s true.

It’s a story of two-leggeds, four-leggeds and wings,

Sundancing and dying, beginnings, and endings.

I am a Lakota, wichasu waken,

But my vision is broken, and soon I’ll be gone.

For like all Lakota, my days come to pass.

And soon I’ll be going down under the grass.”

“Smoke”, Black Elk spoke as he offered the pipe.

As the smoke swirled around him, he offered his life.

(Song)

LAKOTA (Theme)

Before the bison pastures emptied,

The earth held children to her breast.

Before intruders scarred the mystery.

Lakota/Sioux suckled the west.

The Mother Earth was filled with wonder.

And she could make a man feel small.

And she could shape his life with vision.

And understanding made him tall.

When the sun danced it was a good day to die.

But the bison pastures emptied.

As the prairie filled with men.

Plowing crossroads, moving mountains,

When will it end? Tell me my friend? When will it end?

Lakota/Sioux will not die easy.

When being driven from their land.

A Sioux can never trade his mother.

She holds his vision in her hands.

When the sun danced it was a good day to die.

But the bison pastures emptied.

As the prairie filled with men.

Plowing crossroads, moving mountains

When will it end? Tell me my friend? When will it end?

(End of Song)

(Narration)

“In the moon of red grass appearing, before washicus came.

I was a boy, preparing. I had not found my name.

Washicus was a whisper, but soon the word grew loud.

Echoing in the longes, throughout the camps of Red Cloud.

‘Washicus come to kill us! Washicus want our land!’

“Since I am just a little boy, I do not understand.

I only want to be Lakota when I grow to be a man.”

‘Washicus come to heal us! Washicus want a trail.’

“Lakota came to council in the camp of Spotted Tail.

All that is but Crazy Horse, the strange, enchanted one,

Who stayed out on the prairie, vision-questing with the sun.

“They only want a roadway,” Spotted Tail rose and said,

“They do not want our bison. They want the yellow lead.

They know a man called ‘Jesus’, who’s power is so strong.

He’s sent them here to heal Lakota. We should not threat them wrong.”

“The silence then spoke softly, falling as a shroud.

It quietly prepared our ears, for the voice of Red Cloud.”

“These white men’s words are torn with lies.

I know, for I have seen it with my eyes.

They come to beg a roadway, and prepare to steal the earth.

I cannot trade my mother, she’s nursed me since my birth.

We’ll show these mad washicus how Oglalas greet a thief.

That is all I have to say.” “Then he broke his pipe of peace.”

(End of Narration)

(Song)

RED CLOUD

A dogwood limb trimmed with hate,

Makes a warrior’s arrow sharpe and straight,

And a wooden bow in a Sioux’s strong hands,

Shapes into a fearless warrior band.

And the band sings war out loud,

Following the mighty name of Red Cloud.

They waited by the Bozeman Trail.

Like the silent still before the gale.

‘till they heard the clattering of steel,

And the rusty turning of the wheel,

And the band screamed war out loud

Following the mighty name of Red Cloud.

Red Cloud -I believe you came from heaven.

Red Cloud -raining blood each time you cry.

Red Cloud -I believe you came from heaven.

Red Cloud -Sometimes to live you have to die.

On the plains if you will listen close.

You can hear a wailing blue-coat ghost.

He’s moaning I am sorry. I was wrong.

And he’s singing to the tune of Red Cloud’s song.

And the blue-coat ghost cries loud,

He’s remembering the mighty name of Red Cloud.

Red Cloud -I believe you came from heaven.

Red Cloud -raining blood each time you cry.

Red Cloud -I believe you came from heaven.

Red Cloud -sometimes to live you have to die.

(End of Song)

(Narration)

“Many long-knives died that day and left without their hair.

For Red Cloud took it home with him, and now ghost heads bleed bare.

We thought that would be all of it, we thought they would go home.

We thought that they had learned to leave Lakota alone.

And so we went onto the plains, to make meat for us all.

To take the bison’s precious gift, to feed us through snowfall.

And while we marched old women cried for babies they had lost,

In making blue-coat intruders, bald-headed wandering ghosts.”

“I saw a brother galloping in circles on a hill

The prairie sign for all to come enjoy the bison kill.

And when we topped the hill that day the people stopped to stare

And to hear the sound of buffalo hooves, roaring through the air.

Rumbling bison everywhere, rolling like some brown sea,

It seemed they covered all the world, the horizon of eternity.

And then the wise men offered thanks to the maker of this good thing

They smoke a pipe, while on the ground they drew a simple ring,

and spoke in six directions, ending with the Father Sky.

And then one voice sang all alone, the ancient, bison cry.”

(End of Narration)

(Song)

BUFFALO

On the plains there is a buffalo,

Answering the questions I don’t know.

All I need is his heart, to help me be part,

Of the plains and of the buffalo.

In my thoughts I hear you buffalo.

And I’ll go where you want me to go,

All I need is your heart, then I will be part,

Of the plains and of the buffalo.

In my heart I feel you buffalo,

Questioning the answers I don’t know.

All I need is your heart, now that I am part

Of the plains and of the buffalo.

“The spirit in the sun! The spirit in the sun!

The spirit in the sun causes magic to be done!

As every living thing must reach to grasp a strand of light,

we reached for spirit in the sun. Sundancing gave us sight!.

Our medicine was circles and the colors of the wheel

Spoke in six directions, in the center all things healed

And flowered as a forked tree with songbirds on its limbs

Celebrating every day in ancient, singing rhythms.

A child must seek a vision. Children must learn to see

The name that they will grow to wear, the name that they will be.

So that everyone will know them but their vision of good things.

The colors of their life shine bright, like feathered songbird wings.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

SUNDANCE

Red-tail drawing circles on a clear, blue sky,

Sun shining so brightly that I have to shade my eyes,

just to see him.

I can smell the earth and feel the touch of the air.

I can see green, growing things, and I can prepare,

to be like them.

Seasons running through us changing time.

Circling cloudy questions in the blue skies of our mind.

It’s like searching for a vision when you’re blind.

I have watched the winter blossoming into the spring.

I’ve chased a butterfly through meadows, dancing on his wings,

with the summer.

And I have watched the summer green turn brown upon the trees,

Like I’ve watched my feelings turning to my memories,

just like circles.

Seasons running through us changing time.

Circling cloudy questions in the blue skies of our mind.

It’s like searching for a vision when you’re blind.

Oh, seasons running through us changing time.

Circling cloudy questions in the blue skies of our mind.

It’s like searching for a vision when you’re blind.

“The old men tell the story of the first horse on the plains,

And of the first Lakota who roped his head with reins

To ride the wind on pounding hooves across the prairie-land.

It seems that they were meant to be -the pony, and the man.

There was a boy, who had a dream, then followed on its course.

It happened near the Greasy Grass that this boy became enchanted.

Enchanted Horse.

And in this dream Enchanted Horse went to the spirit world,

Where everything was dancing, dancing in a darkened swirl.

Where everything was living spirit, even in the stone.

The boy rode on his pony through this spirit world alone.

Returning to this world he learned his memories could find

The spirit world still dancing, dancing, dancing in the corners of his mind.

And so he went there often as he grew to be a man.

And often wandered out alone onto the prairie-land.

But even in the villages he seldom ever spoke.

Except to tease the children with a playful little joke.

They came to call him Crazy Horse. And he became the name.

The name that stood for our resistance to washicus on our plains.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

PERMANENT CHANGE

What’s a man if not a dream hanging on to fragile things

That only seem to be real a short time,

Permanently changing like the colors of the season

With their rhyme?

What’s a dream if not a man, fantasizing with his plan

To understand the meaning of it all,

Permanently answering the cycles of the mother

when she calls?

I think I understand. Then I think I don’t.

Maybe I will, maybe I won’t

I think I understand. Then I’m not sure,

When pain’s more gentle than the cure.

What is life, but a dream, flowing in a gentle stream

of thought that’s only real for a short time,

Permanently answering,

the colors of the seasons with their rhyme?

I have my ancient bison pastures. That is all I want.

But your blue-coat, yellow-hair makes my people dead and gaunt

And as we gathered once again to camp on Powder River,

The wasp of war was buzzing like the arrows from the quivers.

And there were Dakotas, our cousins and allies,

Rosebud and Oglala came to stop washicu lies.

Hunkpapa, Sans Arc, Cheyenne and Arapaho,

Bad Face Brules, Arikaree,

But there were no Crows!

It seemed the sun was Sioux that day,

And brightly burning red,

As Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull sat alone

Communing with the dead

To weave a net to snare the vicious wolf of Washita

Washicus called him Custer -Lakota felt his claw!

And Cheyenne heard the snarling snapping in his bugle horn

Yes all had heard him on the plains, and many still yet mourn.

The people wove into a net waiting, waiting, waiting by the Little Big Horn.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

LITTLE BIG HORN

There is a time to make a decision, there is a time to know.

You cannot run away and hide, there’s no place left to go

Some men then will curse the very day that they were born,

The air was cursed with screaming on the Little Big Horn.

Men cried out to gods that day, crossroading destinies.

There is a call a man must answer, he cannot disagree.

Lives unravel quickly when the hearts from souls are torn.

Little Big Horn, Little Big Horn, Little Big Horn.

Oh the moon was blue and cold.

Through the night the silence tolled.

That fate was there, they could feel it’s lonesome stare

Lying by them, looking deep into their souls.

And the Sun was flaming red,

And the plains were hot and dry!

And death was there, you could see it’s icy stare

Looking at them from their brothers frightened eyes.

There is a time to make a decision, there is a time to know

You cannot run away and hide, there’s no place left to go.

Some men then will curse the very day that they were born

The air was cursed with screaming on the Little Big Horn

Little Big Horn, Little Big Horn, Little Big Horn.

“They said we murdered Custer and they lied

His soldiers came to kill us, and they died*

And as we ran onto the plains, fleeing from the soldiers,

Washicu spun the wheel of hate, to make coats for his shoulders

Of all the fear existing in the thought inside his head,

Forcing him into wishing that all Indians were dead.”

“Don’t touch me! I’m Crazy Horse!”, he said to the Indian Police,

Who promised he would not be harmed if he would come in peace.

“I have no ‘great white father! My father is the sky!

Leave me here along with him. It’s here I wish to die.”

A bayonet then lit the night and plunged it’s icy flame

Until the strange, enchanted horse was nothing but a name.

The pipe was passed in silence through the lodge of Sitting Bull.

And the silence quietly listened to its heartbeat pounding dull.

“No! I cannot lead the people with nothing but a lie.

We cannot stop washicus! But all of us must not die.

Yes! I’ve seen a vision! Yes! I’ve heard a lark!

The madness these washicu dream has it’s end in dark

And dreary trader’s mumblings that will cover all the earth

Exchanging her for nothing. Which is what his lies are worth!

Yes! I have seen the image of the eagle on the gold

That rules these mad washicu’s souls,

And makes him leave his mother’s lap,

To embrace a self-made trap,

That only want’s to kill him.”

(End of Narration)

(Song)

MEADOWLARK

“In the silence I have heard the Meadowlark,

I’m afraid I listened for too long.

In the quiet, I listened to the Meadowlark,

Capturing my heart with her sweet song,

I know a meadow, where water’s run sweet.

I know a meadow, where grasses grow deep

In the valley I have heard the meadowlark

I’m afraid I followed her too far.

In deep grasses I have heard the meadowlark

Singing as she opened my sundance scars.

There was a day, when the birds spoke with men.

There was a time, when the man was there friend

It was way back when he listened.

In the darkness we must hear the meadowlark,

Shining through the night with her sweet song.

In the shadows, we must seek the meadowlark.

And the understanding singing in her song.

“The iron horse tracks blackened over cold winter snow,

And the boxes were marked, ‘Cody’s Wild West Show’.

And we knew the circle had broken at last

When we jumped in the boxes and rode off so fast

That we crossed the big water to England and France,

Shouting out war-whoops and waving our lances,

And signing our names for a dollar a mark.

Where the air was not clean and the eyes held no spark.

The days of Lakota seemed buried in dark.

And when I returned the mystery was gone.

So I went the prairie and I cried -all alone,

For it seemed that the mother’s breast had gone dry,

Leaving Lakota the last of her children to die.

Ten years the sorrow grew until there came a word,

‘Wovoka’, whispered softly until all the people heard

How washicus killed him, and how he flew away,

To visit the Great Spirit’s world, to learn a better way.

And with all washicus gone away the bison would return.

And to feed our empty bellies, all we had to do was learn,

The dance of desperation, Wovoka dance and sung,

The blue-coats grew uneasy, and the bugle filled it’s lung.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

THE GHOST DANCE

You can feel it coming. Things will soon be clear.

You can feel it growing. The Spirit’s gonna reappear.

I said the spirit’s gonna reappear.

You can feel it turning, turning on your thoughts.

You can feel it yearning. I cannot be fought. No.

I cannot be fought.

Take me dancing, dancing spirit world.

Spin me reeling, feeling every swirl…

You can feel it moving, moving you along

You can feel it soothing, soothing your ‘till you are strong

Soothing you ‘till you are strong!

Take me dancing, dancing spirit world.

Spin me reeling, feeling every swirl.

Take me dancing, dancing spirit world.

Spin me reeling, feeling every swirl.

“The trick-horse heard gunshots then kicked in the air,

And pawed at the ground like his master was there,

But his master Sitting Bull lay on the dirt floor nearby,

Giving blood to his mother the earth, while preparing to die,

While his killers -red policemen- laughed at the show,

That the trick-horse performed running off to the meadow.

The boots and saddle bugle cry cracked the icy night,

But by the time warm coats were on the morning tiptoed light

Across the prairie skyline, lighting an albino sea,

And shining on Sitanka’s band, adrift at Wounded Knee.

The dot on the horizon, became a long black line.

Suddenly it cut the white sea, changing its design.

As the quietness lay in waiting for the distant bugle warning.

These mad washicus meant to take the light of the morning.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

IS THE DARKNESS ONLY SEARCHING FOR THE LIGHT

When does a need change into a little seed

In the darkness only searching for the light?

When does it see that it’s time for it to be

In the darkness only searching for the light?

When does it know that it’s time for it to grow?

Courage must be when a need is ripe,

Dropping its seeds, changing into frantic needs

In the darkness only searching for the light.

Is the darkness only searching for the light?

When does a heart know it’s time for it to start

In the darkness only searching for the light?

When does it see that it’s time for it to be

In the darkness only searching for the light?

When does it know that its time for it grow?

Courage must be when a heart is ripe!

Dropping its needs, changing into little seeds

In the darkness only searching for the light?

Is the darkness only searching for the light?

Life we have found

Is a circle, full and round.

So we follow the rule of the circle.

Life comes to leave.

We are only as the trees.

So we follow the order in circles.

We are sisters of the Sun!

We are brothers of the Sky!

We are fathers of our sons!

We are life…life does not die!

There was a need, and it grew into a seed

In the darkness only searching for the light.

And there was a heart, and its courage made it start

In the darkness only searching for the light.

There was a tree, it was old, proud and free,

Circling like the wrinkles in its heart.

But a man cut it down, and the silence made a sound.

In the darkness only searching for the light.

Is the darkness only searching for the light.

Life we have found

Is a circle, full and round.

So we follow the order in circles.

Life comes to leave,

We are only as the trees!

So we follow the rule of the circle.

We are sisters of the Sun!

We are brothers of the Sky!

We are mothers of our sons.

We are life…life does not die!

Life does not die! Life does not die!

(End of Song)

(Narration)

The circle was fragile, and easily broken.

Then cast to the image of the trader’s gold token.

And our mother cried grandson, where words are never spoken.

But there were feet that felt the heartbeat rhythm of the ground.

And there were hearts that listened to the meanings that they found.

But now they are gone -where all brave hearts go.

Now those Lakota are gone, where all brave hearts go.

(End of Narration)

(Song)

LAKOTA

(Reprise of Theme)

Before the bison pastures emptied,

The earth held children to her breast.

Before intruders scarred the mystery.

Lakota/Sioux suckled the west.

The Mother Earth was filled with wonder.

And she could make a man feel small.

And she could shape his life with vision.

And understanding made him tall.

When the sun danced it was a good day to die.

But the bison pastures emptied.

As the prairie filled with men.

Plowing crossroads, moving mountains,

When will it end? Tell me my friend? When will it end?

Lakota/Sioux will not die easy.

When being driven from their land.

A Sioux can never trade his mother.

She holds his vision in her hands.

When the sun danced it was a good day to die.

But the bison pastures emptied.

As the prairie filled with men.

Plowing crossroads, moving mountains

When will it end? Tell me my friend? When will it end?

THE END