Angry is the Wind

The limbs of the trees are trembling

They are frightened by the sounds

The sounds of gunfire, where I do not come from

My people are native American, we fight only to be free

The deer run, the birds fly in surprise of the unknown

While our tribe and family set campfire for the night

We will scatter and find a place to bed, protected by the wind

Angry is the wind that creeps upon the wounded men, it follows us in sin

The bloodshed, the fear of our children we bare, only they know we care

Nothing takes away the song in our drums that play throughout the day

The wind is our friend, under our feet it lives and loves, as we dance

Away these evil thoughts, and conquer our feelings of mistrust

As we are blood of the earth and the wind and sky are on our side

Angry is the wind only passing by