|
Thick cloud - steam rising - hissing stone on sweat lodge fire |
|
Around me - buffalo robe - sage in bundle - run on skin |
|
Outside - cold air - stand, wait for rising sun |
|
Red paint - eagle feathers - coyote calling - it has begun |
|
Something moving in - I taste it in my mouth and in my heart |
|
It feels like dying - slow - letting go of life |
|
Medicine man lead me up though town - Indian ground - |
|
so far down |
|
Cut up land - each house - a pool - kids wearing water |
|
wings - drink in cool |
|
Follow dry river bed - watch Scout and Guides make |
|
pow-wow signs |
|
Past Geronimo's disco - Sit 'n' Bull steakhouse - white |
|
men dream |
|
A rattle in the old man's sack - look at mountain top - |
|
keep climbing up |
|
Way above us the desert snow - white wind blow |
|
I hold the line - the line of strength that pulls me through |
|
the fear |
|
San Jacinto - I hold the line |
|
San Jacinto - the poison bite and darkness take my sight - |
|
I hold the line |
|
And the tears roll down my swollen cheek - think I'm losing |
|
it - getting weaker |
|
I hold the line - I hold the line |
|
San Jacinto - yellow eagle flies down from the sun - |
|
from the sun |
|
We will walk - on the land |
|
We will breathe - of the air |
|
We will drink - from the stream |
|
We will live - hold the line |
