Gently they come to me,
the spirits of days long ago.
Softly they speak of our heritage
so that others may know.
Be proud of who you are
they say without defeat.
Share the past with others,
so history will not repeat.
I listen and I heed
the words they bid me say.
I share the history of the Cherokee
with those who care today.
If you do not care to hear me,
please turn and go elsewhere.
For you will not be missed
if you do not care ... to care.
We did not break the promises,
made by men of the past ...
but we lived the carnage
that came to pass.
Forever from the spirits of my people,
who only wanted peace and love,
the words will flow like rivers
sent from God above.
We are a loving people,
we did not make the fight.
It was fostered upon us
on that cold October night.
October, 1838...
the Trail Of Tears was begun.
March 26, 1939 arrived
before the Trail Of Tears was done.
Thousands gathered and herded
through conditions of cold and winds that did blow.
More than four thousand did not make it.
Buried in the blood-stained snow.
Many moons have passed
since the Trail Of Tears was trod.
We now re-visit the memories
through the help of God.
God, himself, stood watch,
as the injustice was being run
and He stands watch now
to see justice finally done.
Return the land to the ancestors
of the mighty Cherokee ...
the land still belongs
to the others and to me.
All that are Native American Indian
have a right to the land loved so,
the lands that were taken forcibly
in the history of long ago.
Peace to all who love.
Peace to all who care.
Peace to all Native American Indians
living everywhere.
And peace and love to those
who know how our people suffered pain.
Thanks to all who are willing
to help us to regain.
The Great Spirits have spoken.
Give us now the wisdom to listen.
The tribal counsels will meet
and decide which paths to take.
