White man came across the sea Brought us pain and misery KIlled our tribes killed our creed Took our game for his own need We fought him hard fought him well Out on the plains we gave him hell But many came too much for Cree Oh will we ever be set free? Riding throught dustclouds and barren wastes Galloping hard on the plain Chasing the redskins back to their holes Fighting them at their own game Murder for freedom a stab in the back Women and children and cowards attack Run to the hills run for your lives Run to the hills run for your lives Soldier blue on the barren wastes Hunting and killing their game Raping the women and wasting the men The only good Indians are tame Selling them whisky and taking their gold Enslaving the young and destroying the old Solo (4X) {preparação para a volta do Refrão} (4X)