Spirit of the Native Son

Burning in the Summer spin.

Spin my dream for anyone.

Everyone is blind within.

With my Fathers' severed leg

Walks along a paling mister,

Says "apologies aren't to be begged,

Beg the life for that of your sisters."

See, to him there is nothing sacred,

He still desecrates that which he can.

In the end we will be vindicated

He can eat this stretch of land.

I'll have only salt to lend.

Don't mistake the goat for a friend.

I'm singing

Give a home

where the buffalo roam

and the Natives

run abundant

again.

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini