BURY MY HEART AT WOUNDED KNEE Buffy Sainte-Marie © Gypsy Boy Music-SOCAN When people ask, "What happened to the North American Indians in the 1880s?", you can pretty much point to the robber barons of the time who needed to make a fortune in oil, gold and other precious metals. Simple greed in the hands of a powerful few who manipulated the media and politicians. When people ask, "What happened to the Indian movement of the sixties and seventies?", you can pretty much point to the same motives a hundred years later, with uranium added to the list in very big print. The shocking information in this song is not new, but strung together; the events tell a story that most non-Indian people don't know. Dedicated to Leonard Peltier, the memory of Anna Mae Aquash and Joseph Stuntz. INTRO: Indian legislation on the desk of a do-right Congressman Now, he don't know much about the issue so he picks up the phone and he asks advice from the Senator out in Indian country A darling of the energy companies who are ripping off what’s left of the reservations. Huh. 1. I learned a safety rule I don’t know who to thank Don't stand between the reservation and the corporate bank They send in federal tanks It isn’t nice but it’s reality chorus: Bury my heart at Wounded Knee Deep in the Earth Cover me with pretty lies bury my heart at Wounded Knee. Huh. 2. They got these energy companies that want the land and they’ve got churches by the dozen who want to guide our hands and sign Mother Earth over to pollution, war and greed Get rich... get rich quick. chorus... 3. We got the federal marshals We got the covert spies We got the liars by the fire We got the FBIs They lie in court and get nailed and still Peltier goes off to jail chorus... 4. My girlfriend Annie Mae talked about uranium Her head was filled with bullets and her body dumped The FBI cut off her hands and told us she’d died of exposure Loo loo loo loo loo chorus... We had the Goldrush Wars Aw, didn’t we learn to crawl and still our history gets written in a liar’s scrawl They tell ‘ya “Honey, you can still be an Indian d-d-down at the ‘Y’ on Saturday nights” Bury my heart at Wounded Knee Deep in the Earth Cover me with pretty lies Bury my heart at Wounded Knee. Huh!