When they come from over the mountain

Yeah we'll run we'll run right around them

We've got no guns no we don't have any weapons

Just our cornmeal and our children

The dusk runs, the dark clouds, but not us, but not us

While we pay for mistakes with no meaning

All your gifts and all your peace is deceiving

And still our pain dissolves with believing

That peace comes, that peace comes, that peace comes, that peace comes

Now that our bones lay buried below us

Just like stones pressed into the earth

Well we ain't known by no one before us

And we begin with this one little birth

That grows on, that grows on, that grows on, that grows on

Crippled crow say something for grieving

Where do we go once we start leaving?

Well close that wound

Or else keep on bleeding

And change your tune

It's got no meaning.