The bed still has a niche
An imprint where you lay
I stare at it for hours and hours
It’s a comfort to me that way
Nobody saw you leave
You just slipped out yesterday
A note that seemed so trivial
Explains how you felt that day
Sadness hides in corners
Makes you feel so alone
The receiver hadn’t been lifted
Why didn’t you use the phone
To tell us where you were going
Help us to try and understand
Your head was soaring through the clouds
Without me holding your hand
The bed still has a niche
Where your body used to lie
And now I’m going to stare again
To try and understand why

Round a fire that’s burning
They dance to the dead
Wearing crowns of feathers
They sing what’s in their head
Wigwams with a one way entrance
Like igloos made for the sun
The outside world is the enemy
In a war thats never won
On horse back they ride the prairies
Hunting for food to eat
Slaying any living beast
In the glare of the blistering heat
Names that reflect emotions
And the characters hiding within
Nicknames not designed for fun
These are the titles of kin
Totem poles and symbols
Representing events and times long gone
Images made by the strongest hands
Into the cedar trees they’re carved on
From the everlasting centuries
And into present day
Native people stay alone
Cause it’s their culture and their way
The belief of the Indians
Whatever tribe they are
Is that that the man will one day descent
From the sky’s and a star
They are surrounded by the ghosts
Of the warriors and the chiefs
Who kept them safe and kept them warm
From the engulfing cavalry thief’s