Hey, Mr. President, we’re going to charge you rent
For every treaty broken for every treaty bent.
We are making reservations
That will be just for whites
We will be honest about the white man's rights
We are going to be the tourists
We'll come to see you dance.
You’ll let us know the reason
Why you prance.
We’re not unpatriotic
We just like to see
Like to see your culture
How intriguing it will be.
You get out your medicine men
You get out your squaws
And we will give you justice
Under Indian laws.
For every treaty broken for every treaty bent.
We are making reservations
That will be just for whites
We will be honest about the white man's rights
We are going to be the tourists
We'll come to see you dance.
You’ll let us know the reason
Why you prance.
We’re not unpatriotic
We just like to see
Like to see your culture
How intriguing it will be.
You get out your medicine men
You get out your squaws
And we will give you justice
Under Indian laws.
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 6/8/2015 - 10:10
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Parole e musica di Peter LaFarge (1931-1965)
Nel disco intitolato “As Long As The Grass Shall Grow”
Ehi, signor presidente, vediamo un po’ cosa succederebbe se le cose andassero al rovescio, se foste voi bianchi a stare nelle riserve…