Dance to the sun
   A kiss to the earth
   Embrace a stone
   Come the small black book
   Come the brandy cask
   One strange disease
   The well worded paper
   Signed by the drunken
   Hands of thieves
  
   And suddenly
   They were told to leave
  
   As the snake uncoiled on a road
   The length was eighty miles
   Wagons' weary horses
   Lead the feverish exiles
   Barefoot in the early snow
   On a ridge
   Where they beheld their home
   Coarse and barren
   Not the haven
   Promised by the Father
  
   Jaksa Chula Harjo
   Jaksa Chula Harjo
   Jaksa Chula Harjo **
  
   The Red Sticks first and
   The Dancing Ghosts were
   Pierced with arms of fire
   And the weeping widows
   Left could not avenge
   So the Western Star manifest its will
   Drove them clear into the Pacific O
  
   Gone the way of flesh
   Turned pale and died
   By your god's decree
  
   For he hated me
  
   ** Cherokee name for Andrew Jackson
   The 7th president of the U.S.A.