|
Words & Music by: Rattlesnake Annie
Reservation Blues
Mr. President, tell me what you meant
When you told me we’d be walking down a better road
In the morning when I rise, see the dusty skies
And drive my old truck down that holy road
Stand in line all day just looking for a job with pay
Oh I’ve got the Reservation Blues
Yea I’ve got the Reservation Blues
We have no more beads
Just hungry mouths to feed
And poison water’s boiling from the ground
Whiskey each my pain, sweet love keep me sane
Oh I’ve got the Reservation Blues
Mr. President did you know my daddy went
To that Indian talking room in Washington
Where the clearly spoken word never can be heard
And nobody knows the reservation blues
Publisher: ©
1989 Ann McGowan Music Inc. BMI (International Copyright Secured)
|
