I Am Nothing, Neither A Chief Nor

Now That We Are Poor, We Are Free. No White Man Controls Our Footsteps.

Every Seed Is Awakened, And All Animal Life.

Hear Me People: We Have Now To Deal With Another Race - Small And Feeble When Our Fathers First Met Them, But Now Great And Overbearing. Strangely Enough They Have A Mind To Till The Soil And The Love Of Possession Is A Disease With Them. These People Have Made Many Rules That The Rich May Break But The Poor May Not. They Take Their Tithes From The Poor And Weak To Support The Rich And Those Who Rule.

When I Was A Boy, The Sioux Owned The World. The Sun Rose And Set On Their Land; They Sent Ten Thousand Men To Battle. Where Are The Warriors Today? Who Slew Them? Where Are Our Lands? Who Owns Them?

I Have Killed, Robbed, And Injured Too Many White Men To Believe In A Good Peace. They Are Medicine, And I Would Eventually Die A Lingering Death. I Had Rather Die On The Field Of Battle. Look At Me, See If I Am Poor, Or My People Either. The Whites May Get Me At Last, As You Say, But I Will Have Good Times Till Then. You Are Fools To Make Yourselves Slaves To A Piece Of Fat Bacon, Some Hard-tack, And A Little Sugar And Coffee.