This trilogy was born in the summer of 1980 in Tyler, Texas, as the result of an intense historical study of the events that led to the massacre of many innocent men, women and children at Wounded Knee; and the deliberate lies, deceptions, and misrepresentations that led the supposedly civilized government of the United States of America to deliberately break, with prejudice, all formal treaties entered into with Native American nations that pre-existed any European colonial occupation of North America . , and the creation of the American republic.

This trilogy is dedicated to the millions of American Indians, Native Americans, who suffered and died, on the defensive, defending their homeland, at the hands of men who maliciously conspired to deprive them of their legitimate legacy.

I hear you cry softly
Calling me back
From the grave of tomorrow
Your image I can see;
But my life is not ready
To greet the day of judgment,
So throw your pearls before the pigs
And go your lonely way

As the drums of war were silenced
By the iron horse, weapons and lies,
The feelings of your people
They were difficult to disguise;
But despite the tide of history
Your story will be told
At a time when man will stop paying attention
Such a sad and cold tale.

Because the truth of life is simple,
Too simple to be seen
By the gloating eyes of yesterday
That flickered at Wounded Knee.
The page of history is wrinkled
By the hand of fate he turned
Starting over where you once have stepped
A desolate and burned road.

The morning clouds have gathered
The storm has not yet broken;
Your cabin is full of sadness
You will not participate anymore
From the world of hate, it’s over
Your death is sure and sweet
Your daughter and your sons have come and gone
Now you will meet your creator.

As you stand before the altar
Of the God who gave you life,
The stormy clouds have lifted,
Dawn has met night.
He casts his eyes on you
Although his face is full of terror.
Come my son, all time is gone
My children are all dead.

Yes the truth of life was simple
Lying down clear to see
While the son of nature suffered
In a land where men were free
Yes, the blood of all God’s children
Red flows into the sun
As man prepares again to do
The crime he has committed.

Because the truth of life is simple,
Too simple to be seen
By the gloating eyes of yesterday
That flickered at Wounded Knee.
The page of history is wrinkled
By the hand of fate he turned
Starting over where you once stepped
A desolate and burned road.