Buffalo Wise Man Of Time

The snort of the voice, the breath of the morn, as he follows me

Wise man of time, wrestled by life, fighting for his life, and roaming the earth

Each passing moon, the spirit of the herd as no other has ever known

Where the buffalo have been, so I have seen dead men, though life is not long

It is given, and we receive it with pride, for no one can conquer the wild alone

It must be driven, and the valley will let us be free, our strength will never fade

As the native man, the buffalo stand, and their horns will find the way

To keep the mystery of our Cherokee brothers, the ancestors of our widowed grandmothers

And now we look unto the pastures, where our own hooves have lifted us

Into the next life, and we find peace, where the blood of the bodies that lay

We will look forward to the future and gather our past into a wrapped baby

Where we shall be born once again