Pocahontas

And the homeland we've never seen
In the mornin' on the fields of green
Will be there by the fire

They killed us in our tepee
They might have left some babies

And maybe Marlon Brando

Cryin' on the ground
Like the Astrodome and the first tepee
With my Indian rug and a pipe to share
In the homeland we've never seen
From the white man to the fields of green
I wish I was a trapper
And find out how she felt

I would give thousand pelts

And they cut our women down
They massacred the buffalo
And the night falls on the setting sun
The taxis run across my feet
But the fire sticks and the wagons come
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
And my eyes have turned to blanks

To sleep with Pocahontas

And the good things there for hire
In my little box at the top of the stairs
Kitty corner from the bank
We'll sit and talk about Hollywood
Paddles cut the water
In a long and hurried flight