DESCRIPTION:
When I first heard this song it moved something in me, it brought a deep sense of remorse for the native people of this land. I think with the way the world is and how disconnected everyone seems to be from the Earth we could all stand to learn something, not only from the song, but from the people who inspired it. I don't usually do this with songs I post, but I'm going to include the lyrics with this one. This is a B-side beauty from Elton's "Madman Across the Water" album which is phenomenal in its entirety. I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't heard it.

As I awoke this evening with the sound of woodsmoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging upon a painted teepee
Oh I went to see my chief then with my warlace and my woman
Oh he told us that the Yellow Moon would very soon be leaving

This I cant believe I said, I cant believe our warlords dead
Oh we will not leave the chosen ones to the buzzards, and the soldiers guns
Oh great father of the Iroquois, ever since I was young
I've read the writing of the smoke and rested on the sound of drums

I've learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux to make a chieftens daughter mine
And now you ask that I should watch, the redmans race be slowly crushed
What kind of words are these to hear from the Yellow Dog who white man fear

I take only what is mine Lord, my pony, my squaw and my child
I cant stay here to see you die, along with my tribes pride
I go to search for the Yellow Moon, and the fathers of our sons
Where the red sun sinks, in the hills of gold and the healing waters run

Tramplin down the prarie roads, leavin hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me, I welcome with my hand
I heard from passin renagades, Geronimo was dead
He'd been laying down his weapons, when they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason why, I should carry on
In this land that once was my land, I cant find a home
Its lonely and its quiet and the horse soldiers are comin
And I think its time I strung my bow, and ceased this sensless runnin

And soon I'll find the Yellow Moon along with my loved ones
Where the buffalo graze in clover fields, without the sound of guns
And the Red Sun sinks into the hills of gold
And a peace to this young warrior it comes

With a bullet hole...