White man came across the sea
Brought us pain and misery
Killed our tribes 
killed our creed
Took our game for his own need

We fought him hard we 
fought him well
Out on the plains we gave him hell
But many came too much 
for Cree
Oh will we ever be set free?

Riding through dustclouds and 
barren wastes
Galloping hard on the plains
Chasing the redskins back to 
their holes
Fighting them at their own game
Murder for freedom a stab in 
the back
Women and children and cowards attack

* Run to the hills run 
for your lives
Run to the hills run for your lives

Soldier blue on the 
barren wastes
Hunting and killing their game
Raping the women and wasting 
the men
The only good Indians are tame
Selling them whisky and taking 
their gold
Enslaving the young and destroying the old

[Repeat * , 
*]