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Russel Means dead at 72 : Swingers Discussion 210600
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TOPIC: Russel Means dead at 72
Created by: fjep91754
Original Starting post for this thread:
Russel died Monday of throat cancer, he was a great Sioux warrior. He will be missed by not only Sioux but all of the Nations.

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So ride away - And dont recall the things that are best forgotten. Try and find a way - of picking from the barrel the one thats rotten. The key to peace is sitting on your shoulders. So knock upon the door and you walk on in. Youre just a child who has but to remember. That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away yeah - Ride away - Ride away - Ride away - Ride away yeah - Oh yeah -

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest on a creek called Wounded Knee -

Saint Louis MO
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Just Ride away - And travel right out through space and time. Try and find a way of leaving the illusion behind. And in this sleep your mind will be awakened. To the calling of a dream that lies within. Youre just a child, who has but to remember. That in yourself you just found your best friend.

So ride away - And let your mind go through its metamorphosis. Try and find a way - To bring your sunken love back to the surface. And sail on silver clouds straight through the fire. Like a lily pad adrift on a windless sea. A-clinging to the breast of Mother Nature. Together sailing beautiful and free.

Ride away lord - Its said that Crazy Horse had the power to dream himself into the real world - and leave the illusion behind.

Saint Louis MO
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I have dreamed the vision of the horse that dances wild, 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.

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.

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

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

For Crazy Horse he was laid to rest on a creek called Wounded Knee. But there is more buried in his crave than the wisest men could see.

Milkweed allusion cast its dye. And the horse that dances starts to fly. Rhythms of metamorphous leave their stain. Memories of happiness kept in vain.

The target tomorrow is one step beyond. For lilies of mercy lost on a pond. They cry out for freedom to the light house above. They are angels of victory, peace and love.

Visions of Odin dark and oblique. Mind over matter which all men seek. A vague understanding with no recourse. And a fond remembrance of Crazy Horse.

Saint Louis MO
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Now you try to trick me and lock me up in jail, but where would a stupid savage find the bondsmen 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 someday Great White Father youll remember me.

Sioux warriors teach your children the white mans 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 thats 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 men could see.

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Hey there mister wagon master what do ya' have inside, hidden underneath of 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. A-hey mother come look and see, what the bastard done brought to me - its 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 been havin' lots of fun on your - alcohol - tobacco - and guns, alcohol - tobacco - and guns. Yeah -

Now I have waited patiently for you to pay your rent, but as 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 the day that you get Sioux‘d. A hundred years have seen the setting sun, but his sad country it still is run - on his alcohol - tobacco - and guns, alcohol - tobacco - and guns. A hundred years have seen the setting sun, but his sad country it still is run - on his alcohol - tobacco - and guns, alcohol - tobacco - and GUNS.

Saint Louis MO
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In the June of 76' our Nation joined its hands. We made our camps on The Little Bighorn not knowing of your plans. You sent your long-haired Custer with the Seventh Cavalry, to hunt and kill my children for wanting to be free. And I think its time Great White Father that you knew my name ! Its Crazy Horse - its Crazy Horse and I wish you were here to see, cause I got Yellow Hair cornered at the Bighorn and Im about to set him free.

Ride to the village to get my Oglala's, the Sans Arcs and the Miniconjou, Get Sitting Bull with his band of Hunkpapas, the Brules and Blackfoots too.

Ridin home from battle came the Cheyenne ponies with white blood drippin from their feet. Their riders were a looking and a shoutin up to heaven heres to Chivington at Sand Creek.

Saint Louis MO
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In the year of 65 when I was very young, we watched the dust clouds to the south 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 December 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.

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Means, who died Monday from throat cancer at age 72, helped lead the 1973 uprising at Wounded Knee — a bloody confrontation that raised America's awareness about the struggles of Indians and gave rise to a wider protest movement that lasted for the rest of the decade.

May he be Blessed by the Spirit of Crazy Horse.

The Song of Crazy Horse Words & Music by: J D Blackfoot © 1973 Published by: Tokala Music

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 the 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 it'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.

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Russel died Monday of throat cancer, he was a great Sioux warrior. He will be missed by not only Sioux but all of the Nations.

Sanford NC
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TOPIC: Russel Means dead at 72