I’m Indian

Slip the glove upon my hand for the ants to soothe the pain of something else
The stings are fading in, not striking me as same, but Indian

Been rubbing salt in sores to wash away the heat. Is it Indian?
And as my eyes begin to cloud I acknowledge I've been beat. Or Indian

Are we riding the change or slipping down the drain in the end
Are my roots to save me now? Will I prevail somehow? I'm Indian

I firmly do believe there will come a change indeed in the end
The pain will flicker by. It shall turn away and die in the end

Though I'm no pedigree I won't fall down to my knees. No, I'm Indian

And we are riding the change, not slipping down the drain in the end
And my roots must save me now when I prevail somehow. I'm Indian

As the Frantic Cowboy dies his friends around him cry, "My God! It's the Indians!"
As the Fickle Fairy cheers, shouting, "no more tears, you're Indian"