Aurora Borealis
The icy sky at night
Paddles cut the water
In a long and hurried flight
From the white man to the fields of green
And the homeland we've never seen

They killed us in our teepees
And cut our women down
They might have left some babies
Cryin' on the ground
But the fire sticks and the wagons come
And the night falls on the setting sun

They massacred the buffalo
Kitty corner from the bank
Taxis run across my feet
And my eyes have turned to blanks
In my little box at the top of the stairs
With my Indian rug and a pipe to share

I wish a was a trapper
I would give a thousand pelts
To sleep with Pocahontas
And find out how she felt
In the mornin' on the fields of green
In the homeland we've never seen

Pocahontas

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc., WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Writer(s): Neil Young