The clear blue waters of the past awaits your soul,
how long it waits nobody knows.
Its like an endless stream of blue,
calling from deep within you.
Longing, you did not even know you had,
until like a bird it opened it's wings and flew.
Longing for the time when Indians wondered wild and free.
The days of cooking,hunting,and the skies of blue,
Oh back then if they had only knew.
The fires that were built and the lodges that were made.
Oh those were the days.
Baths in clear blue springs and birds singing in harmony.
Of the indians old ways.
Oh how I would love to walk through the doors of the past,
then shut the doors and stay.
To make the bed on which I lay,to see another beautiful indian day.
I know this is a dream I am destined to have,
for this world is very sad.
What awaits me I do not know,
but if it is like the past I will gladly go...