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Cowboys and Indians

from Lost Stories: Volume One by Ben Rogers

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lyrics

Come gather round, let me sing you a song
About what little I know, it won’t take long
It’s a game I played when I was young
Called Cowboys and Indians

By means of plastic figurines
My brothers and I kept the country free
From the savages who tried to take our land
Them merciless outlaw Indian bands

Then one day momma she saw us playing
She said I got a story that needs a-saying
It’s a story that happened way back when
‘Bout cowboys and Indians

And she cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
She cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
She cried, “Oh-oh-oh”

On the border of New Mexico
In a jerkwater town that nobody knows
There was an Indian boy of Navajo blood
He was lookin’ for work under the noonday sun

He met a cowboy smoking on a stogie near
He said, “Hey Tonto, come on over here”
He said, “I’ll tell you what, if you can ride the saddle
I’ll pay you ten cents a day to drive my cattle”

Now the cowboy he had one lone daughter
Who milked the cows and fetched him water
And the Indian knew it was forbidden
To even look at her so he remained hidden

Until one day a calf got lost
And he followed its tracks down to the pond
Where the daughter was bathing and singing sweet
And the sound of her voice made his knees go weak

She sang, “Oh-oh-oh”
She sang, “Oh-oh-oh”
She sang, “Oh-oh-oh”

He took the feather from his hair and gave it to her
Saying, “You must be an angel and this must be yours”
And he laid her down in a field of corn
And there they stayed ‘til the light of morn

When the daughter she returned back home
She found the cowboy waiting all alone
He was standing out by the laundry line
He said, “You know not to mix the reds with the whites”

“And the same goes for you, no daughter of mine
Will be caught dead mixing with his kind”
He said, “I never should have trusted that Indian scum”
And he took to the fields carrying his gun

Now the daughter warned the Indian of his fate
He said, “My love, it’s much too late
Here are some flowers for you to borrow
So you’ll have something to put on my grave tomorrow”

And they cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
They cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
They cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
The cowboy came upon the boy at last
Who was trying to lasso that wayward calf
He screamed, “You goddamn Prairie Nigger!
You’re a dead man now,” and pulled the trigger

The cowboy he was never charged
Never shed a tear, never felt remorse
But in this country sometimes it seems
No one notices when the Red Man bleeds

Now the daughter would learn to love again
But none could compare to the Indian
Then my mother she began to cry
And the tears came streaming from her eyes

She said, ‘”My boy, now don’t you see
The Indian’s lover, that was me
And I think that it’s about time you knew
I gave birth to his child and that child is you”

And I cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
I cried, “Oh-oh-oh”
I cried, “Oh-oh-oh”

So now you’ve listened to my song
About what little I know, it didn’t take long
It’s the game I played when I was young
Called Cowboys and Indians

credits

from Lost Stories: Volume One, released January 3, 2013

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Ben Rogers Vancouver, British Columbia

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