Sister Eagle high above
     do you remember me ?
          From a time so long ago
               to this place called history.

Where men of different colors
     left their dreams to come and kill,
          and they rode majestic horses
               to the top of Custer's hill.

In honor of the names of those
     not mentioned on the stone,
          I come in loving memory
               of those that were my own.

River of life upon my face
     where pain is gently streaming,
          haunted - as I close my eyes,
               For I can still hear the horses screaming.