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Trail of Tears
By Aly Waterson

Son of a Scottish trader who roamed the new world o'er
Pride of a Cherokee mother into this land she bore a
Son of the Indian Nation who owned the West's frontiers
But ended in the carnage known as the Trail of Tears

We know we are leaving but not where we go
We know we are grieving, our hearts are laid low
We know where we come from and where we have begun
And now we are vanished like snow before the sun

Weatherford and Macintosh, braves of Scotia born
Kennard and McQueen, Creek leaders, they were sworn
John Ross was Chief of Cherokee for more than thirty years
And he shared with them the journey known as the Trail of Tears


He was born of ancient peoples sharing Warrior, Tribe and Clan
He came from ancient peoples born to stand up as a man
A breed of tribal people who died for others' greed
And back into the rich dark earth their red souls did bleed


Forced out from the ancestral lands they did not concede
The Gold Rush for the white man was destined to proceed
Thousands died from hunger, children aged before their years
And John Ross lost his wife there, upon the Trail of Tears


Šopyright Aly Waterson

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