Aurora borealisThe icy sky at nightPaddles cut the waterIn a long and hurried flightFrom the white manTo the fields of greenAnd the homelandWe've never seen.
They killed us in our tepeeAnd they cut our women downThey might have left some babiesCryin' on the groundBut the firesticksAnd the wagons comeAnd the night fallsOn the setting sun.
They massacred the buffaloKitty corner from the bankThe taxis run across my feetAnd my eyes have turned to blanksIn my little boxAt the top of the stairsWith my Indian rugAnd a pipe to share.
I wish a was a trapperI would give thousand peltsTo sleep with PocahontasAnd find out how she feltIn the mornin'On the fields of greenIn the homelandWe've never seen.
And maybe Marlon BrandoWill be there by the fireWe'll sit and talk of HollywoodAnd the good things there for hireAnd the AstrodomeAnd the first tepeeMarlon Brando, Pocahontas and meMarlon Brando, Pocahontas and mePocahontas.