Just because you do not see me
does not mean that I've disappeared.
Wassam-wampan-noag-a, hey-yah, ha, hey-yah, ha
The sun rises on the shore
alone he stangs with the morning rays washing over his form
He looks to the waters that carried his ancestors
to meet his ancestors
the amalgamation of warriors
blood flows on his native soil
the blood of rebellion flows in him
Rebellion dances in the eyes of his daughter,
future mother of the clan.
The sound of drums travel on the wind
heart-beat of the earth.
It is convienient for some that he des not exist
he is a flesh and bone figment of their imagination
So one day, a fantasy may rise and reclaim those things of his birth-right.
Uttering the words, just because you don't see me, does not mean that I don't exist.
wassam-wampan-noag-a, hey-yah,ha, hey-yah, ha
His hair is in long matted briads, flowing down his back
wiry and rough to see but soft and smooth to touch
his brown eyes look through you to the core of your soul
He is a peaceful warrior
yet still feared as a savage by those who spill blood
he is a savage because of their guilt
through his children and his children's children
his spirit will rise like grass through cracks in concrete.
The first light shines down on him
and he is a warrior
and he is a rebel
his ancestors are parted by waters, and his native soil is the world.
he is the Algonquin Niabingi
Just because you do not see me
does not mean that I've disappeared.
Wassam-wampan-noag-a, hey-yah, ha, hey-yah, ha
