The Oak Tree stood between the shading Pines,
Grown for lumber on the mountain side.
How many times we played there!
Used it to hide,
Or just simply sat in its mighty limbs,
Staring down into the valley below...

I loved that tree when I was young,
Before what happened was done-
Damn brother reached up to touch the sky,
Fell with a horrible cry!

It was the dog who tried to save him,
Tried to drag us to our little Jim,
Yapping and growling, even tried to bite-
God, you should have heard my brother
Call to him when we finally came into sight!

Damn, he had so many broken bones,
It was hard to look at him,
But I could not leave him alone,
Held his hand, while he moaned...

They finally made us back away,
The sun moved behind the clouds,
Signaling the end of the day,
We were all thinking he would be okay-

Then that damn dog sat down and howled...

I felt a shiver run down my spine,
Screaming out; "No!
You can't take him!
He's mine! "

But Gods never listen,
They are just so filthy and fowl,
Taking a little boy like that,
And the dog just continued to howl...

They took him to prepare for burial,
And we brothers and sisters stared at that tree-
With hate and loathing finally set free,
As one we begin to break its limbs,
Brother fetched his axe,
Sister the long saw,
Fucking tree wasn't so tall-

We gathered around as dawn finally came,
Lighting the prye as the sun rose,
Sending our brother off to drift in the wind,
Our gift to him something we all chose...

The death of that which took his life,
Burned in the fire of retribution,
Oldest brother drew his knife,
Marking his sign to remember his father's son.

Nature lovers be damned,
What better death could be planned?
What can I say?
Fires must be fed,
And this is the way we injuns bury our dead...