We Do Not Want Churches. They Will

Words Do Not Pay For My Dead People.

I Have Asked Some Of The Great White Chiefs Where They Get Their Authority To Say To The Indian That He Shall Stay In One Place, While He Sees White Men Going Where They Please. They Cannot Tell Me.

We Gave Up Some Of Our Country To The White Men, Thinking That Then We Could Have Peace. We Were Mistaken. The White Man Would Not Let Us Alone.

It Makes My Heart Sick When I Remember All The Good Words And The Broken Promises.

Hear Me, My Chiefs! I Am Tired. My Heart Is Sick And Sad. From Where The Sun Now Stands, I Will Fight No More Forever.