J.D. Blackfoot, The Song of Crazy Horse and Wounded Knee, from 1973

Not just a beautiful piece of music, operatic in scale, but a profoundly well made epic poem.   I include the lyrics below, which stand alone as a piece of historical literature.  I mean to write an essay on this, as a song, and as a stand-alone poem, and make a plea that it be known in the world of letters.  And in the schools.  It deserves a place in the American canon.   The death dirge alone is enough to have convinced me of this. An unsung genius, this man, and the song is virtually unknown.  With thanks to my brother, for turning me on to it when I was a child, and to Chrissy, and Dave, whose travels, conversation, and poems, have put Wounded Knee back into my orbit of thought.   Turn up the volume.  You'll weep.  You'll dance.  You'll fall to your knees.  

I think it's time, great white father, that you knew my name.  

Jd Blackfoot The Song Of Crazy Horse 

The Song of Crazy Horse

Words & Music by: J D Blackfoot © 1973 Published by: Tokala Music

You took his land and you ate his corn,

and on his grave your land was born.

You took his pride and you fed him dirt,

you wished him winter without a shirt

and you called this red man savage.

And after you crushed him you helped him up,

to let him drink from an empty cup.

You gave him the Navy without the fleet,

and made him lick your hands and kiss your feet,

and you named this mad dog savage.

Well I found a book the other day,

so I looked up red and white to see what it'd say.

One was a savage the other unlearned,

like a look in the mirror the tables were turned,

for history has named you - savage.

In the year of 65 when I was very young,

we watched the dust clouds to the south

we knew that you had come.

We saw you build your chain of forts

along the Bozeman Road,

but Red Cloud had his allies a-counted

long before it snowed.

And someday Great White Father

you will know my name.

In December of 66' you met me face to face.

I decoyed your Captain Fetterman

and we never left a trace.

Into our sacred homelands

your Blue Coat Soldiers came,

but we just taught you a heap-big lesson

in the Battle of a Hundred Slain.

And someday Great White Father

you will know my name.

In the June of 76' our Nation joined its hands.

We made our camps on The Little Bighorn

not knowing of your plans.

You sent your long-haired Custer

with the Seventh Cavalry,

to hunt and kill my children

for wanting to be free.

And I think it's time Great White Father

that you knew my name !

It's Crazy Horse - it's Crazy Horse

and I wish you were here to see,

cause' I got Yellow Hair cornered at the Bighorn

and I'm about to set him free.

Ride to the village to get my Oglala's,

the Sans Arc's and the Miniconjou,

Get Sitting Bull with his band of Hunkpapa's,

the Brule's and Blackfoot's too.

Ridin' home from battle came the Cheyenne ponies

with white blood drippin' from their feet.

Their riders were a lookin' and a shoutin' up to heaven

here's to Chivington at Sand Creek.

Hey there mister wagon master

what do ya' have inside,

hidden underneath of that buffalo hide.

Could it be ya' brought to me

some food from the man back east,

so my starvin' children could have a feast.

A-hey mother come look and see,

what the bastard done brought to me -

its alcohol - tobacco - and guns,

alcohol - tobacco - and guns

Now I have seen the Eagle soaring

beautiful and free,

I don't want no man to make less of me.

Do you take me for a fool

or as a little child?

And do you really wonder what's made me wild?

Hey paleface ya' better run,

because my men been havin' lots of fun

on your - alcohol - tobacco - and guns,

alcohol - tobacco - and guns. Yeah -

Now I have waited patiently

for you to pay your rent,

but as yet I haven't seen that first red cent.

I don't think that there's much chance

of me evicting you,

but watch out for the day that you get Sioux'd.

A hundred years have seen the setting sun,

but his sad country it still is run - on his

alcohol - tobacco - and guns,

alcohol - tobacco - and guns.

A hundred years have seen the setting sun,

but his sad country it still is run - on his

alcohol - tobacco - and guns,

alcohol - tobacco - and GUNS.

Now you try to trick me and lock me up in jail,

but where would a stupid savage

find the bondsmen or the bail.

I turn to run for I am scared and want so to be free.

I feel the ice cold bayonet

as it sinks deep inside of me.

But someday Great White Father

you'll remember me.

Sioux warriors teach your children

the white mans evil tongue.

Make them know the name of Crazy Horse

and the battles he has won.

So they will know the truth

when its knowledge that they crave.

Let them sing of the land of the free

and the home of the brave.

And of the Great White Father

that dug my grave.

Brown rivers once were blue

now the fish float upside down.

Ancestral burial grounds

that's where you built your towns.

The smokestacks from your factories

they pollute my skies.

You slaughtered all my buffalo

and you left me here to die.

And all of this you have done

in the name of God.

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest

on a creek called Wounded Knee.

But there is more buried in his grave

than the wisest men could see.

I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild,

I have seen the land of the great beyond.

I am one with this earth as a little child.

Let my eternal light shine on.

I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild,

and I have seen the land of the great beyond.

I am one with this earth as a little child.

Let my eternal light shine on.

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest

on a creek called Wounded Knee.

But there is more buried in his crave

than the wisest men could see.

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest

on a creek called Wounded Knee.

But there is more buried in his crave

than the wisest men could see.

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest

on a creek called Wounded Knee.

But there is more buried in his crave

than the wisest men could see.

Milkweed allusion cast its dye.

And the horse that dances starts to fly.

Rhythms of metamorphous leave their stain.

Memories of happiness kept in vain.

The target tomorrow is one step beyond.

For lilies of mercy lost on a pond.

They cry out for freedom to the light house above.

They are angels of victory, peace and love.

Visions of Odin dark and oblique.

Mind over matter which all men seek.

A vague understanding with no recourse.

And a fond remembrance of Crazy Horse.

Just Ride away -

And travel right out through space and time.

Try and find a way of leaving the illusion behind.

And in this sleep your mind will be awakened.

To the calling of a dream that lies within.

You're just a child, who has but to remember.

That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away -

And let your mind go through its metamorphosis.

Try and find a way -

To bring your sunken love back to the surface.

And sail on silver clouds straight through the fire.

Like a lily pad adrift on a windless sea.

A-clinging to the breast of Mother Nature.

Together sailing beautiful and free.

Ride away lord -

It's said that Crazy Horse had the power

to dream himself into the real world -

and leave the illusion behind.

So ride away -

And don't recall the things that are best forgotten.

Try and find a way -

of picking from the barrel the one that's rotten.

The key to peace is sitting on your shoulders.

So knock upon the door and you walk on in.

You're just a child who has but to remember.

That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away yeah - Ride away -

Ride away - Ride away -

Ride away yeah - Oh yeah -

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest

on a creek called Wounded Knee