Peter, Paul & Mary Lyrics
Indian Sunset

As he awoke that evening with the smell of
wood-smoke clinging Like a gentle cobweb hangin'
upon a painted teepee He went to see his chieftain
with his war lance and his woman for they told him
that the yellow moon would very soon be leaving
"Oh, this I can't believe, "he said,
"I won't believe our war lord's dead! He
would not leave the chosen ones to the buzzards
and the soldiers' guns"

Oh, great Father of the Iroquois, ever since I was
young I've read the writing of the smoke and
breast-fed on the sound of drums I've learned to
hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild, To
run the gauntlet of the Sioux, to make a
chieftain's daughter mine

And now you ask that I should watch the red men's
race be slowly crushed? What kind of words are
these to hear from Yellow Dog, whom the white man
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fears?

I take only what is mine; my pony, my squaw, and
my child I can't stay to see you die, along with
my tribe's pride I go to search for the yellow
moon and the fathers of our sons Where the red sun
sinks in the hills of gold and the healing waters
run

Tramplin' down the prairie rose, leaving
hooftracks in the sand Those who wish to follow
me, I welcome with my hand I heard from passing
renegades, Geronimo was dead He'd been laying down
his weapons when they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason why I should carry on In
this land that once was my land I can't find a
home It's lonely and it's quiet and the horse
soldiers are comin' And I think it's time I strung
my bow and ceased my senseless running For now
I'll find the yellow moon along with my loved ones
Where the buff'loes graze in the clover fields
without the sound of guns And the red sun sinks at
last into the hills of gold And peace to this
young warrior comes with a bullet hole!