49 years ago Buffy Sainte-Marie performed her revolutionary song, My Country Tis of Thy People Youre Dying, on the show Rainbow Quest (w/Pete Seeger). With its sharp, no holds barred lyrics, the song itself presented an honest depiction of the Native north american storyline in the colonized/stolen lands of american and canada. The song is so effective, it could be taught line by line in Indigenous/American History courses throughout the Americas. Today, we celebrate the history of the Indigenous Wampanoag Nation. Please, take a moment to honor their story, the legacy of punk rock musicians like Buffy Sainte-Marie, and the spirit of Indigenous activism, culture, and survivance. My point in the song is that the American people havent been given a fair share at learning the true history of the American Indian. They know neither the state of poverty that the Indians are in now nor how it got to be that way. I try to tell the side of the story thats left out of the history books, that can only be found in the documents, the archives and in the memories of the Indians themselves. - Buffy Sainte-Marie My Country Tis of Thy People Youre Dying lyrics: Now that your big eyes have finally opened, Now that youre wondering how must they feel, Meaning them that youve chased across Americas movie screens. Now that youre wondering how can it be real That the ones youve called colorful, noble and proud In your school propaganda They starve in their splendor? Youve asked for my comment I simply will render: My country tis of thy people youre dying. Now that the longhouses breed superstition You force us to send our toddlers away To your schools where theyre taught to despise their traditions. You forbid them their languages, then further say That American history really began When Columbus set sail out of Europe, then stress That the nation of leeches that conquered this land Are the biggest and bravest and boldest and best. And yet where in your history books is the tale Of the genocide basic to this countrys birth, Of the preachers who lied, how the Bill of Rights failed, How a nation of patriots returned to their earth? And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell As it rang with a thud Oer Kinzua mud, And of brave Uncle Sam in Alaska this year? My country tis of thy people youre dying. Hear how the bargain was made for the West: With her shivering children in zero degrees, Blankets for your land, so the treaties attest, Oh well, blankets for land is a bargain indeed, And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected From smallpox-diseased dying soldiers that day. And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored, A hundred years of your statesmen have felt its better this way. And yet a few of the conquered have somehow survived, Their blood runs the redder though genes have paled. From the Gran Canyons caverns to craven sad hills The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale. From Los Angeles County to upstate New York The white nation fattens while others grow lean; Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean. My country tis of thy people youre dying. The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens; Our life blood shut up in your chemical tanks. And now here you come, bill of sale in your hands And surprise in your eyes that were lacking in thanks For the blessings of civilization youve brought us, The lessons youve taught us, the ruin youve wrought us -- Oh see what our trust in Americas brought us. My country tis of thy people youre dying. Now that the pride of the sires receives charity, Now that were harmless and safe behind laws, Now that my lifes to be known as your heritage, Now that even the graves have been robbed, Now that our own chosen way is a novelty -- Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory, Choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy Pitying the blindness that youve never seen That the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory They were never no more than carrion crows, Pushed the wrens from their nest, stole their eggs, changed their story; The mockingbird sings it, its all that he knows. Ah what can I do? say a powerless few With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye -- Cant you see that their povertys profiting you. My country tis of thy people youre dying.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Nov 2014 19:57:17 +0000
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