Pocahontas

Aurora borealis, the icy sky at night Paddles cut the water in a long and hurried flight From the white man to the fields of green And the homeland we've never seen They killed us in our teepees and they cut our women down They might have left some babies crying on the ground But the firesticks and the wagons come And the night falls on the setting sun They massacred the buffalo, kitty corner from the bank The taxis run across my feet and my eyes have turned to blanks In my little box at the top of the stairs With my indian rug and a pipe to share I wish I was a trapper, I would give a thousand pelts To sleep with Pocahontas and find out how she felt In the morning on the fields of green In the homeland we've never seen And maybe Marlon Brando will be there by the fire We'll sit and talk of Hollywood and the good things there for hire And the Astradome and the first teepee Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me, Pocahontas...