La Push by New Model Army
We live in a bowl made of sky and stars
Perched on the edge of the world
And around the Reservation everyone drives
In pick-ups and beaten-up cars
And the rattles and drums they rise and they fall
The circle unbroken in the village hall
With the flag of the conquerors high on the wall
And the sound of the foghorn on the island
Bury my heart deep in the forest
Perish my body in the cold, cold water
And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe
There were fish and there were whales out past the jagged rocks
Sharp like the teeth of the bay
And there are credit cheques cashed at the village store
And junk food and beer for the day
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