Monday, March 26, 2007

Trinity, Part III

Magic is a wild thing, not something to be controlled but only channelled. Those who think that they can control it are mistaken and will eventually pay for that mistake, as Trinity did.

To perform magic properly requires vast knowledge and is not possible for one person to know all there is. To be a true sorceress, ones quest for knowledge can never end. It is necessary to understand the world you live in in order to manipulate it. It is also important to understand that you don't know all there is to know, not even close.

Trinity had never been afraid to look at things, she peered into what most people ran away from. She thought about death, she thought about pain, she thought about hate and loneliness and fear. She tried to understand the mind of the killer as well as the victim. The things she saw scared her, they made her sad. Sometimes she would cry inconsolably. This, her teacher had told her, was the thing that would set her apart from the rest, could make her great rather than average. It was good that her teacher encouraged her in this for no-one else did.

Joia had never liked looking at darkness, she thought that it made you sick of spirit. She tried to focus on the beauty and light and good that was around her. And when she became involved with Justo, her talent for this was put to the test! In order to see the good in her marriage and in her life, she had to lie to herself. And the more things progressed, the more lies she had to tell until finally her life was constructed on a fragile tower of untruths. The energy she exerted to maintain these illusions was prodigious. Her thinking became rigid, to see one lie would mean seeing them all and seeing them all would mean that she would have to change. She would have to find her life and herself again, underneath all of the lies and she was afraid. Mostly afraid that maybe what she thought of as herself actually consisted of nothing.

A glamour-off, as you may have guessed, is a spell in which a person is forced to see the truth under the things that they lie to themselves about. It is one of the most powerful spells and Trinity shouldn't have used it. The truth can be hard and painful and can wound deeply, especially the heart of one who cannot bear it.

Trinity had used great power when performing her spell, but no finesse. The spell caused Joia to see not only the things she had avoided seeing about Justo and herself, that was only a small part of all she had been lying to herself about. She saw all other things as well.

Joia was quiet on the way home from the confrontation with Trinity. When she and Justo arrived at their house she simply collapsed into a chair and spoke no more. Justo called to her but she did not answer, it was as though she couldn't see him. And she couldn't, all she could see were the visions in front of her eyes. The visions came fast, wave after wave crashing into her so that she could hardly catch her breath, she sat with tears streaming down her face.

The things she saw were so ugly to her, if hurt her to see them. She saw that her marriage was a sham, just as Trinity had wanted her to, oh but that was the least and most insignificant thing that she saw.

The world unravelled sickenly before her eyes. She was going deeper and deeper into it, past the surface and inside. She saw the spinning orbs that make up matter and the cold empty spaces between. She saw earth and sky, the wood and the stone, the dark and the light and how they weren't really anything separate and how everything blended into everything else, how everything traded pieces of itself. She saw how people conspire to create reality and how what we call life and and law and truth are all just consensual illusions.

She saw that flesh is but dust and that death is hidden in life. She saw the futility of all the lives ever lived, and how all who had gone before were forgotten as though they never existed. She thought she could see the hopeful faces of millions of people who once thought like her, that their lives had meant something and how now even their names were not remembered. She thought of time and how it had run over everything and everyone since the beginning of the world, crushing them in its relentless forward motion and how meaningless it all was.

She sunk to her knees and saw in front of her eyes, as though seeing a vision, all of these things until the earth became a mass graveyard with uncountable corpses underneath inside of it, mixing with the earth and becoming it. She felt that nothing meant anything and that it was all different than anyone knew. She laid on the floor and moaned and shook, with her hands against her head as though she was trying to hold it together.

Justo grew frightened, she would not respond, neither to roughness or softness. He had no choice but to send for Trinity. By the time Trinity arrived, Joia had seen something she needed to see and was waking up.

She glanced around inscrubly and turned and walked out the door. She told Justo goodbye and that was the last thing that she said for a very long time. And Trinity had quite a time setting this right.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Trinity and Brian

Wow, Trinity's breasts have really gotten full haven't they. Does anyone think that I should put a chapter in about her having breast implants? Oh and,(I changed Tragedy's name to Trinity. And I'm digressing a little before I get to part III. I hope this chapterdoesn't make me sound like a nerd!)
I suppose you may have been intrigued when you heard about Brian and wondered what Trinity was doing with a Dragon and how they had met: I don't mind telling you but in order to explain it sufficiently, I will have to go back in time give a little background.

NOW, Brian used to be part of a dragon singing quartet. If when you hear this, you are imagining something akin to a barbershop quartet, you couldn't be more wrong. First of all, there is nothing in the world like the singing of a dragon. The voice of a dragon is powerful and disturbing in a way that you simply couldn't understand unless you've heard it. Some would call it hallucinatory.

The dragon pipe, which almost always accompanies dragon singing, is the perfect accompaniment for a dragon. Dragon pipes are a wind instrument as the name suggests, which comes in 16 pieces which can all be put together in different combinations. Depending upon which mouthpiece and which chambers the dragon adds and how many, a completely different sound can be made. It is the most versatile instrument ever made and humans and others have tried to fashion their own but theirs don't have the same effect. The chambers are too small and they simply can't achieve the same resonance.

Now, the group could have been a huge success but they weren't together long because, I ashamed to say, they fought all the time like children. So they went their separate ways. John took over the family business of raising gourmet steer, oxen etc...bred specifically for the palates of discriminating dragons, as the advertisement said. Perry and Bart began experimenting with a new form of music in which the traditional and new music of all races were mixed. This music became become very famous, you may have heard of it. It is called Dragon fusion. One flew across the ocean and was never heard from again. As for Brian, he took a sabbatical to explore different religions and to dabble in the occult.

But tonight 4 of the 5 members were meeting by prior arrangement (they met once a year, somewhere or another) in a pub frequented by dragons. Due to the fact that Dragons need quite a bit of liquor because of their great sizes( though not as much as you would think, dragons become intoxicated easily!) not all pubs were able to acccomodate them. This pub happened to be near one of the Dragon's lairs, Johns, and kept liquor for him there as a courtesy. It ended up being very lucrative decision on their part, as he was a very good customer! As a matter of fact, the other dragons noticed that John had gotten quite a paunch since they had last seen him, though they were all too polite to mention it.

So there they were, reminiscing about the old days, all the time getting drunker and drunker, merrier and merrier. Having rather loud voices, they were overheard by people and others in the pub who were all drunk as well and they began boisterously encouraging them to perform a few songs. The dragons were reticent and bashful at first but finally agreed to sing just one song.

So while 3 of the dragons, Brian, Perry and Bart, began to sing a plaintive ballad, John flew home to get his dragonpipes. It was a beautiful summer evening with twilight about an hour away. They were feeling very sentimental and once they started, they couldn't stop, it was like old times and it turned into a concert that was spoken of for years!

After singing several ballads, accompanied by the dragonpipes which were assembled to make haunting and flute-like sound, the dragons rested and and prepared, then had another drink. John re-assembled the pipes to make a sound that was similar, though more melodic, to that which a foghorn makes. While John played the dragonpipes mournfully, the dragons began singing a sort of martial song. Now, one of the things that is so impressive about a dragon concert is that dragons sometimes fly in intricate patterns while they sing. Dragons are taught these complicated formations from the time that they are young, it is part of their culture and these four dragons were exceptionally good at it as they had a very strong telepathic link. Consider yourself very lucky indeed if you ever get to the opportunity to see dragons fly like this.

So, while John played deep, low, booming notes on his pipes the dragons rose in the air and began arcing gracefully back and forth, criss-crossing each other and crooning while they went. Then as the tempo of the song began to pick up, John began beating his tale against a barrel to provide rhythm and the dragons began to scream in loud agonized voices that seemed to stretch across the sky leaving ragged echoes. Their swooping became larger and grander and faster and then, one by one, they began diving straight down out of the sky into the crowd howling and blazing and wailing eerily and then pulling up at exactly the right moment before they crashed into the people who, as you might imagine, quickly sobered up.

Then the dragons flew off to a distance to let the crowd recover and hummed ominously while John reassembled the dragonpipes. When the crowd had grown hushed and expectant, John began playing his dragonpipes again, making an murky, warbling sound, similar to the sound made by whales underwater. The dragons answered with druidic-like chanting and swooning harmonies and began flying in closer, chanting all the while. This time the dragons flew around and around, always opposite each other so that their voices were coming from all sides. They began to scream with ragged emotion, their echoes seeming to wrap around the audience and enter into them.

They were singing as the sun went down and when it was dark they began streaking across the sky, their flames flying behind them. Dragons have a trick of being able to eat certain rocks which change the color of their flames, John had gotten some for them when he went to his cave, so they tore across the sky with Sapphire and and Emerald and Scarlet flames seeming to burst out of them while John's piping grew more and more frenzied. They were all magnificent, but none so sublime as Brian, for he had seen Trinity and had come undone. He had not only seen her but felt her because he seemed to have some sort of telepathic link to her which normally doesn't happen between human and dragon. And he was singing to her, and for her, he was inspired by her and hoping that she would understand.

When the last echo had faded, the audience paused for a moment and then went wild, yelling and screaming, stomping and throwing their hats in the air. Each and every one of them were to remember this to the end of their days as the most incredible thing that they had ever seen, but none of them were ever able to describe it.

Trinity had noticed Brian, he had stood out to her brilliantly. She was deeply moved by his songs and felt that she could fall in love with someone who sang like she felt if only he weren't a dragon. And when the concert ended, Brian hungrily caught her eye And Trinity moodily waited for him to free himself from the other dragons and the rest of the audience, not really knowing what she was waiting for. And then they began to talk and she knew. They talked all night until the sun came up, thus setting the pattern of their affair.

They had so much in common! They liked the same books and the same music! They shared the same wicked sense of humor and sense of drama. They both liked to stay up all night, they both found danger romantic and safely dull. They each had a propensity for accidentally setting things on fire when they were mad and that had to be more than just a coincidence! And they could communicate at a level deeper than any words that can be spoken.

Their love was very bittersweet, as their relationship could never be consummated due to their size differences. Theirs became a courtly and satirical sort of love. She called him her troubadour and he called her little dark one. She wove him garlands of flowers to wear around his wrist, (it would have taken her too long to make one big enough for his head) and he brought her pretty trinkets and baubles.He wrote her poetry and she slept curled up inside the circle of his arms. She felt safe for the first time in her life.

And most of all, with him she could fly and after that she was never the same!

Hopefully, now that I'm done with this digression, I will have part III done soon.

Tragedy and Joy PartII

Tragedy appeared to have earned some money while she was away and by the looks of it, a considerable amount. The villagers were full of endless speculations on how she might have come across it.

"On her back, more than likely!" was the opinion of Mrs. Pumplemuffin.

"She probably murdered some rich person and stole their money, I always knew she was the sort!" shrilled Mrs. Bipplepuff hysterically.

And on and on it went, each speculation more fanciful than the last.The villagers enjoyed these postulations tremendously, though they would never have admitted it, and talked of almost nothing else. Happily for them, Tragedy was giving them plenty to talk about.

If it weren't enough that she was renting the empty shop between the haberdashery and the fishmongers, and that the villagers could hear banging and clanging and general hubbub coming from inside the shop, but were being foiled by not being able to see what was going on inside, as the windows were covered with wax-paper; now she had bought the old Heartlove place up on the hill as well. It was near the old cave that she used to spend so much time in as a girl and brought back some ambiguous, but mostly happy memories for her.

The Heartlove place having just become available had been much coveted by one Mr and Mrs Prunescape, they had been waiting for old Mrs Heartlove to die for years. A great-nephew was known to be inheriting it and it was also known would be selling it as he didn't want to come to Rubia to live. They were furious when Tragedy purchased the place right out from under them and in their grief, set out to cause as much mischief as they could for Tragedy.

However, these plans were hastily put aside when a gaggle of dragons landed one day with parcels of something or another strapped upon their backs. The dragons stayed for several days, having a large and rather boisterous party in the woods and the villagers could hear them roaring and laughing and playing the dragonpipe at all hours. When one named Brian stayed behind at the old cave any plots against Tragedy that had been lingering around quickly evaporated and the townfolk grudgingly left her alone.

Finally, one gloomy day the villagers found that the wax paper had been removed from the windows and that the shop was finally open! The entire village was all atwitter with the news, though none would enter the shop. They did, however, make a big point of deliberately walking by the shop so that they could been seen shunning it. This did not disturb Tragedy but rather amused her as she had been expecting it, or something like it. She had not been able to help but notice that not much had changed during her wanderings. She was not counting on the not much though, she had her bets on the little bit that had and it did not disappoint her.

For something new was afoot in the kingdom. Now that the Troll wars had ended, people were able to travel freely. As a result of this, the village had received a wider exposure to the outside world than ever before. This exposure was having varied effects on the younger generation, one of these being that they thought that Tragedy was wonderfully exotic and infinitally fascinating. And it was these who began to clandestinely visit her shop.

The first visitor was a young girl named Venicia Traipse. She did not come to the shop itself for she would have been in horrible trouble with her parents if she had, but rather waited until nightfall when Tragedy was home, to knock on her door. It goes without saying that her problem must have been serious indeed in order for her to be willing to come past the dragon!

She was very distraught for it seemed that one day she had been trying on one of her mother's jewels, a most expensive bracelet which had been passed down through the family's women for 5 generations. So impressed was the silly girl by how beautiful it looked on her wrist that she went out for the afternoon and simpered about, hoping that one the boys she had her eye on would notice. And at some point during the run of the day she had lost it, of course.

Now this was fairly easy for Tragedy to fix, though she didn't admit this. Instead, she took Venetia to her shop and told her what she needed to do, charging only a nominal fee. Venicia found the bracelet just as Tragedy had promised, in an owl's nest. Tragedy had entreated Venicia to tell no-one, thus ensuring that she would tell everyone and that is how it all began.

Within a month, though no-one would visit her shop in the daytime, she had as many customers as she could comfortable handle at night, and then some. Women wanting to get rid of warts, men who wanted their hair to grow back, girls wanting to find out who they were going to marry, people wanting protection from their enemies, people wanting revenge and well.....the usual. She was beginning to become somewhat, secretely respected and there are many stories that I could tell about this but I suppose you would like to know what was happening with Joy.

Joy, I am ashamed to say, would come nowhere near Tragedy, she had become quite dependent on the good opinion of her husband, the not-so-handsome-anymore shopkeeper. He no longer had need to harm her to make her do what he wanted, she did it completely of her own accord. She knew that he thought that her sister was a nutter so didn't even try to go near her. And of course, this didn't please him, nothing really ever did, but it didn't displease him either, which was usually the best that Joy could hope for.

And how did Tragedy feel about this? Well, as I would hardly need to tell you, not very good at all. And it took her quite awhile to surmise what the situation really was and to decide what, if anything she should do about it. She thought about it long and she thought about it hard for everyone knows that it is very dangerous for a sorceress to interfere with true love.

"That's it!" Tragedy suddenly shot up from where she had been sitting and pondering all of this! "True love! That's the key!" And she busily got to work.

One night when the shopkeeper (whom I will tell you was named Justo) and Joy were walking home, Tragedy hid behind a tree and lied in wait for them. When they got close she could hear them talking. Justo was bragging, complaining and bossing as he was wont to do and Joy was admiring, consoling and acquiesing as she was wont to do. And this was good as Tragedy knew exactly where they were and exactly when they would be in front of her.

When they got to the spot that she had prepared, a yellow shimmering fog spilled out of the ground and then suddenly took form springing up and snapping shut around Joy like a cage of golden light. At the same time Tragedy sprang out from behind the tree shouting, "Ha! It's done!"

When Justo saw that this was the work of Tragedy he was furious and rushed upon her meaning to punch her. He, as we know, had no problems hitting women. But the trees began tossing to and fro and the grass and flowers flattened out and there was a sound like the beating of wings, which was exactly what it was, Dragon wings to be precise. Brian landed beside Tragedy and winked ironically at Justo, which stopped him dead in his tracks. For all his posturing he wasn't a particularly brave man and loathed fights with other men, much less dragons!

Though he was stopped physically, his mouth was not stopped in the least little bit, even with the Dragon nearby staring balefully at him. You might suppose by this that he was beginning to find his courage after all! But no...he was just extremely stupid is all.

"You unholy Bitch!" he snarled. "You let my wife go or....Dragon or no Dragon, I will beat you within an inch of your life."

Brian and Tragedy both chuckled, then Tragedy composed herself and said..."'Tis true, I have caught your wife in a snare, but it will be a simple matter to have her taken out. All that needs to be done is that one whom she truly loves must grasp her hand and pull her out." Brian nodded largely.

"How do I know you are telling the truth?" demanded Justo.

"Oh," said Tragedy, drawing herself up to her full height, "I'm telling the truth! This is a Glamour-off!" she said triumphantly.

Justo's heart fell as he knew she spoke true. But he caught himself because after all, of course his wife loved him, so why worry.

Justo sniffed disdainfully, "Should be a simple matter then!" He strutted up to the cage of light, put his hand inside, grasped hers and attempted to pull her out. She would not budge past the bars, pull though he might.

"Oh Tragedy! This is ridiculous! He is my husband! Of course I love him!" cried Joy in an agonized voice.

"Joy, the Glamour-off never lies." said Tragedy firmly. "What you call love is not true love but something else. It is only a mockery of love. It is a mockery of yourself as well. Joy, you have yet to learn what love it." and saying this she reached her hand into the golden cage and drew Joy through the bars.

Shaken, Joy stared at the ground for a moment and then for one of the first times in her life, grew angry. Angry at Tragedy! She screamed, hurled mud, spit like a cat, kicked dirt tore at her clothes. She was pissed!

"We were glad when you left," she screamed, "No-one wanted you back. No-one ever wanted you here! All you do and all you've ever done is hurt people! Your wierd, an you've always been wierd. I've always been embarassed by you. Don't ever speak to me again." And she flounced off with Justo smirking hatefully behind her.

Part III to follow

Once upon a time there were two girls, they were sisters, who grew up in a home where inappropriate, bizarre, extravagent and eccentric anger were the norm. They were possessed of a mother who was singularly peculiar, and a father who studiously ignored the entire situation. Every day was a carnival of the surreal in which the psyches of the young girls were ultimately formed in such a way that they had a very high tolerance for wierd behaviour of all sorts. Actually it must be admitted they rather enjoyed the wierd and even sought it out on occasion. But let us not get ahead of ourselves, there will time for that later.

The older was dark of hair and personality as well. If she were a teenager today, she would probably be goth. She viewed her situation as a tragedy and fittingly, this was her name. Tragedy took herself much too seriously! Full of angst she spent her days in philisophical befuddlement asking questions that had no answers. She avoided her family as much as possible preferring to spend her time in an old, moldy cave nearby the family cottage singing funeral dirges.

The youngest was fair of hair with a personality to match. If she were a teenager today she might be scouted out to star in a Disney movie. She viewed her situation as a comedy and took nothing seriously, least of all herself. So she was called Joy. And she spent her time flitting prettily about! On warm summer evenings when windows were open, Joy's melodious, twinkling laughter could be heard floating through the scented twilight. It charmed the neighbors to no end. And though a story about Joy would certainly be so much more enjoyable than one about Tragedy, tragically, this one is about Tragedy!

Well, as may be expected Joy was much more popular than Tragedy...whom most people avoided. Bereft of company as she was, she began to study sorcery hoping that perhaps solace could be found in a world other than this one. She began to associate with a group of sorcerers and developed her own laughter, albeit dark.

Not only in the community was Joy more widely loved but at home as well. Needless to say, Tragedy's parents found her constant criticisms of their behaviour tedious. Even more so because these criticisms were often true and this was something that they both loathed to see. And so they retalitated by trying to cut her down to size whenever they could.

It may be thought that Joy and Tragedy did not get along, that they despised each other. That Joy felt herself superiour to Tragedy on account of her favoured position in the family and....well....everywhere and that Tragedy was jealous. But this was not so at all. They both knew that they were the only ones really capable of understanding one another. Joy knew that if it weren't for Tragedy that she would be hopelessly, if not irredemably giddy. Tragedy knew that were it not for Joy she might never have learned to smile.

So Tragedy turned a blind eye to all she felt was silly about Joy. And Joy feigned not to notice when Tragedy became so gloomy that flowers drooped when she walked into the room. Indeed, Joy was the only one who could cheer Tragedy up when she reached the depths of her despair, usually daily, around tea-time. And tragedy did her part to prevent Joy from becoming so airy that she nearly floated away.

Finally, as girls tend to do, they grew to be women. And when they did, their tolerance for eccentric behavior, which I promised I would get to, caused them to have many great and terrible adventures, a few of which I shall now relate to you.

Joy in her joyosity, began to spend her time with Gypsy's, circus performers, elves fairies and the like frantically making merry. Those who knew her chuckled indulgently; they did not try to stop her, she was so pretty! But unbeknownst to anyone, not even Tragedy, sometimes she wished someone would try to stop her. Because she sometimes things got out of hand. Like the time she woke up in bed with an ogre she didn't even know. She swore to lay off the mead but at the next party she found she couldn't say no.

Joy having never having had to hide anything before, didn't even recognise what was wrong with herself. She thought she was sick and began taking potions and elixirs in order to heal all the time wearing a brave front, telling no-one her. Everyone loved her so much because she was so happy. Happy was what she was! Without her happiness, cheeriness, helpfulness...she was nothing. And so she pretended but her laughter grew forced and her smile strained.

When she was at her lowest point she wed a handsome shopkeeper who had always admired her. He gave her the control that she had always lacked. Sometimes he used his words, sometimes his fists and sometimes his feet. But he seemed to care about her safety as no-one else ever had before, he kept her in line as she never could do herself. And she felt he saw inside of her as no-one else ever had because he saw that she wasn't as good as people thought she was. She was silly, and foolish and vain and that was the truth!

Tragedy, it goes without saying, had problems of her own. When she finally figured out that most people were scared of her, she tried to tone it down and to emulate Joy as she was so well-loved. But she quickly saw that that wasn't going to work! She could only maintain it for a short while before she glared fiercly at someone or said something cynical or made a sick joke. She had also become quite the sorceress over the years and when angered would sometimes blast pottery into shards with her eyes or make the fire in the hearth flare, ruining whatever had been cooking and filling the cottage with smoke.

So she gave up her futile attempts at Joyness and and left the village to travel and spend her time in places of ill-repute gazing into oracles, seeking more magic and wisdom. She was not afraid of monsters of any sort save the human variety and she eventually grew completely undomesticated.

She drifted from bad crowd to bad crowd and even dated vampires and werewolves and the like. She thought that they were dark and mysterious and had some kind of knowledge that would allow her to understand the wordless urges that she was always struggling with. But she finally found that they were just posers. That instead of using their immortality to learn and to seek wisdom, it only caused them to be even more oblivious than most as they never had to deal with consequences. And she also found that they needed the living in order to feel and would drain all of your vitality if you allowed it. Not being nice like Joy she left and for the first time realized that maybe it wasn't always so bad not to be nice.

Trite though it was, Tragedy began to see that happiness is indeed found within. She also decided that it was okay if no-one understood her as long as she understood herself. And so she decided to go on her biggest adventure of all. She decided to return home and to use her powers to help instead of to hurt.

No-one was really too glad to see her. She had hurled scathing and eerily accurate insults at everyone in the village at least once. They were also rather mistrustful of her sorcery and this made them sullenly polite which had always irritated her before but now she took no mind. She was too busy opening up a shop! She had decided to become the town witch. She had become a first rate sorceress on her travels and felt that she could offer the village a valuable service. She was so busy and focused on her enterprise that she had not yet discerned Joys situation.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

The Legend of Crazy Horse

Has anyone ever heard a song by J.D. Blackfoot called The Legend of CrazyHorse? It was once a very popular song in the St. Louis area and it is still played on KSHE classics, I'm not sure if it is as popular or well-known in other areas. It was written in 1973 by J.D. Blackfoot after he read the book Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.

There is only a certain age-group of people who have heard it or know what it is. I fear it is becoming lost, which is very sad as it is a great song. Great as in 'one of the greats'. They apperently play it in classrooms as a supplement to that segment of history.

The song has beautiful lyrics, they are poetry. It is wonderful musically as well. It is mostly accoustic guitar with percussion and some flute. The percussion and the flute add the native american element into the song. The combination of the music and the lyrics make it very powerful.

I found his website the other day. Just type in JD Blackfoot and you will find it. You can buy all of his music. He has written tons that I have never heard. I'm going to buy the album. Anyone that wants to hear a great song should get ahold of this and listen to it. Or if you have already heard it and wish that you could hear it again. I've written down some of the lyrics. Not all of them though, as I said the song is 23 minutes long. Even without the music, the lyrics are great and the lyrics alone should not be lost.

The Legend of Crazy Horse
by J.D. Blackfoot

You took his land and you ate his corn, and on his grave your land was born.
You took his pride and you fed him dirt, you wished him winter without a shirt
and you called this red man SAVAGE!

And after you crushed him you helped him up, to let him drink from an empty cup.
You gave him that Navy without the fleet, and made him lick your hands and kiss your feet, and you named this mad dog SAVAGE!

Well I found a book the other day, so I looked up red and white to see what'd say.
One was a savage, the other unlearned, like a look in the mirror the tables were turned....for history has named you--SAVAGE!

In the year of 65 when I was very young, we watched the dust clouds to the south and we knew that you had come.
We saw you build your chain of forts along the Bozeman road
But Red-Cloud had his allies a-counted long before it snowed.
And someday Great White Father you will know my name!

In the year of 66 you met me face to face. I decoyed your Captain Fetterman and we never left a trace.
Into our sacred homelands your Blue Coat Soldiers came,
But we just taught you a heap-big lesson in the battle of a hundred slain.
And someday Great White Father you will know my name!

In the June of 76 our Nation joined its hands. We made our camp at the Little Bighorn not knowing of your plans.
You sent your long-haired Custer of the Seventh Cavalry, to hunt and kill my children for wanting to be free.
And I think it's time Great White Father that you knew my name!!!

It's Crazy Horse! It's Crazy Horse!
And I wish that you were here to see,
cause I got Yellow Hair cornered at the Bighorn and I'm about to set him free!

Ride to the village to get my Oglala's, the Sans Arc's and the Miniconjou,
Get Sitting Bull with his band of Hunkpapa's the Brule's and the Blackfoot's too!
Riding home from battle came the Cheyenne ponies with white blood drippin' from their feet!
Their riders were a lookin' and a shoutin' up to heaven, here's to Chivington at Sand Creek!

Hey there mister wagon master what do ya' have inside, hidden underneath that buffalo hide?
Could it be ya brought to me some food from the man back east, so my starvin' children could have a feast?
Hey mother come look and see what the bastard done brought to me---alcohol, tobacco and guns....alcohol tobacco and guns.

Now I have seen the Eagle soaring beautiful and free, I don't want no man to make less of me.
Do you take me for a fool or as a little child? And do you really wonder what's made me wild?
Hey paleface ya better run...because my men are having lots of fun with alcohol, tobacco and guns-yeah!

Now I have waited patiently for you to pay your rent, but as of yet I haven't seen that first red cent.
I don't think that there's much chance of me evicting you, but watch out for that day that you get Sioux'd.
A hundred years have seen the setting sun, but his sad country still is run on alcohol-tobacco- and guns.
A hundred years have seen the setting sun, but his sad country still is run on alcohol-tobacco-and guns.

Now you try to trick me and lock me up in jail,
but where would a stupid savage find the bondsman or the bail?
I turn to run for I am scared and want so to be free, I feel the ice-cold bayonet as it sinks deep inside of me.
But some day Great White Father you'll remember me!

Sioux warriors teach your children the white man's evil tongue.
Make them know the name of Crazy Horse and the battles he has won.
So they will know the truth when its knowledge that they crave.
Let them sing of the land of the free and the home of the brave.
And of the Great White father that dug my grave.

Brown rivers once were blue, now the fish float upside down.
Ancestral burial grounds that's where you built your towns.
The smokestacks from your factories they pollute my skies.
You slaughtered all my buffalo and you left me here to die.
And all of this you have done in the name of God!

Crazy Horse he was laid to rest on a creek called Wounded Knee.
but there is more buried in his grave than the wisest man could see.

I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild, and I have seen the land of the great beyond.
I am one with this earth as a little child. Let my eternal light shine on.

Ride away and don't recall the things that are best forgotten.
Try to find a way-of picking from the barrel the one that's rotten.
The key to peace is sitting on your shoulders. So knock upon the door and you walk on in.
You're just a child who has but to remember, that in yourself you just found your best friend.

so ride away lord--

It is said that Crazy Horse had the power to dream himself into the real world-
and to leave the illusion behind.......