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| Native Thunder |
| The million man march of native skins... united as one - cousins and kins. Walking with thunder and rhythm of sweet... coming from within - the native heartbeat. In tribal dress and in tribal strength, with warring spirits and hair of length - it's time to let the Great Capitol see the Native Spirit, which blossoms to be. With native songs, our fore-fathers cries, rhythmic issue of a babe's lullaby's. Ka!, Ha! No more Ghost Lands, or broken signatures of past ghost hands. Justice is what this great land seeks, not borken words, which, the Unega speaks. Dohi thunder in the walk and the song, with prayer and hope to right the wrong. A million voices, the tongues of great tribes walking to correct the Unega's bribes. We are expected to uphold laws of this land not to break contracts signed by our hand. The tribes are not dead...their thunder is loud. Their heritage is strong, the spirits are proud. You no longer own us with water of sweet, we own ourselves with our Native heartbeat. Payment should be what the contracts say and that is why thunder marches today. A million pairs of native feet on the ground, stomping in dance until justice is found. If you have something that does not belong to you... Give it back!!! This has always been the law of the people. It is not the cowardly things that makes one a fool, but the things that he knows is right and refuses to do them correctly because of pride. It is time to let the people go...Give back what is theirs! If you were on the other side of the fence, you would expect it this way...now wouldn't you? |
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