Native Song

Where the buffalo roam, the wind in my hair, my horse I ride bareback

White capped mountaintops, the freshness of the air, my blood warm

Following the waters, the trail, the stones of my path, I know my song

It has been driven in my soul, by the drums and the rattles in our chant

We praise the sky, the sun, the earth, the waters that run, I look where we belong

In the valleys we run free, the trees give us protection, food in the forrests

The wild beast is our friend, we hunt with pride, we respect our father's

Look up to the sun, it has the heat to heal, the wounds of the many our Cherokee

Nation will sing the song of victory, for we never let go of the wind in our feathers

The eagle soars and the flutes continue to breathe in our minds, we gather

In the wilderness, our souls spirit never dies, as the proud notes take us to our nest