CHRISTMAS, INDIAN STYLE
‘Twas the night before Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanza,
Although we were savages, the white man said, “You’re gonna
Learn how to speak and celebrate with us,
Quit smoking that peace pipe and learn how to cuss!”
When out on the prairie, where our buffalo once roamed,
The noise on the wind came, “Red Man, take back your home!”
I woke up the leaders, our great white haired Chief
Said, “A Vision I had, oh, hear me now speak!”
The Chief was hung over, the firewater a gift,
Compliments of the white man, “Your Spirits it will lift!”
“Listen my family, listen to me,
The white man’s a coming, no longer will we be free.
He’ll take all our land and force us to live,
On parcels of land he says he will give.”
Chief’s face grew solemn, a headache he bore,
Said, “Take care of the white man, tell him we’re at war!”
I jumped on my horse, like an eagle did fly,
To scare off the pale face and, friend, this is why.
Your Santa did give us, from that bag on his back,
Land for our casinos and games like black jack.
Poker and slots and craps you do play,
The war we’re a’ winning, your money we will take.
The last laugh’s on you as you give us your dough,
Your cars and your homes then go sleep in the snow!
You’ll hear us exclaim as you leave broke tonight,
“Merry Christmas our brothers! Come back with your wife!”