La Push - New Model Army

We live in a bowl made of sky and stars

Perched on the edge of the world

And around the Reservation everyone drives

In pick-ups and beaten-up cars

And the rattles and drums they rise and they fall

The circle unbroken in the village hall

With the flag of the conquerors high on the wall

And the sound of the foghorn on the island

Bury my heart deep in the forest

Perish my body in the cold, cold water

And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe

There were fish and there were whales out past the jagged rocks

Sharp like the teeth of the bay

And there are credit cheques cashed at the village store

And junk food and beer for the day

And the rattles and drums they rise and they fall

In the circle unbroken in the village hall

With the flag of the conquerors high on the wall

And the sound of the foghorn on the island

Bury my heart deep in the forest

Perish my body in the cold cold water

And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe

Look away, look away, the wolf transforms into a man

Some things should never be seen

And a hundred great birds swoop down across the breakers

And the Spirit Wind blows and things they just happen

So bury my heart deep in the forest

Perish my body in the cold cold water

And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe