| A banner year 1864
|
| Don’t want the red man anymore
|
| Can’t have them taking up good land
|
| Give them a token flag
|
| Trade pipes and shake some hands
|
| Tell them the white stripes stand for peace
|
| Say if they raise red white and blue
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| Blue coats will never shoot at you
|
| But stripes will loose their sheen
|
| Black Kettle was their chief
|
| He only wanted peace
|
| Under the flag, a massacre at Sand Creek
|
| Wave your flag. |
| Salivate
|
| Stirring feelings of pride and hate
|
| A peace of cloth can’t hold your faith
|
| No flag flies, no banner waves
|
| See the empty pole above his empty grave
|
| No one knows where he lies
|
| And no one knows why he had to die
|
| A banner year 1868
|
| A bitter end a twist of fate
|
| Maps won’t hold this melanoma
|
| Blurry part of Oklahoma
|
| Where Custer shot and killed Black Kettle
|
| Wave your flag. |
| Salivate
|
| Stirring feelings of pride and hate
|
| A peace of cloth can’t hold your faith
|
| No flag flies, no banner waves
|
| See the empty pole above his empty grave
|
| No one knows where he lies
|
| And no one knows why he had to die
|
| A promise is a promise
|
| A judge of character
|
| His banner over me is love
|
| No flag flies, no banner waves
|
| See the empty pole above his empty grave
|
| No one knows where he lies
|
| And no one knows why he had to die
|
| No flag flies, no banner waves
|
| See the empty pole above his empty grave
|
| No one knows where he lies
|
| And no one knows why he had to die |