Pocahontas
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 tepee and they 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 I was a trapper I would give 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.
And maybe Marlon Brando will be there by the fire.
We'll sit and talk about Hollywood and the good things there for hire.
Like the Astrodome and the first tepee
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Pocahontas.
Writer(s): Neil Young
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