Treasure Island

Albert Martin


Native Warriors


The white of these sands
To the shining of the sun it is due
Do not misunderstand
Tonight they’ll be blue

I’ve seen more riders than one
Crossing the plain and getting lost of my sight
But yet my eyes have seen no fun
Not all is glad in the pretty wild outside

But I always stand right
And when it gets invariably late
Looking far in the middle of the night
I see the real brave warriors’ fate

Do not have a doubt
Just believe what I say
I’m not in the mood to explain about
Go up to your mount and let’s take the dusty way

Do not think about spurs and saddles
Do not believe they are riders
But in their walking through life
They get wilder and wilder

Since I was a little child
I’ve heard the tales about them
From far you can see their fires burn
From far you can see the flames

What they must be doing
That’s what you do ask
They’re into their constant hunting and dancing
Since they came in a long gone past

Submitted: Friday, March 28, 2014
Edited: Friday, March 28, 2014

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Topic(s): culture

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