No more beautiful moons may we spend on our land
In the north, the scarlet council talks of war
And the long knives have massacred the tribe and burned corn
We're not welcome in our homeland anymore
No more songs of the hunters on the baffalo plain
No more smoke from sacred fires touch these hills
And the numbers of the people grow fewer every mile
And our children will not leave the Great Spirit's ways
There will be a trail of tears
There will be a trail of pain
And Jackson will have the Mississippi and the twenty dollar bill
But for us the trail is all that will remain
On the streets of rapid City
On the road to Wounded Knee
There is whiskey for forgetting everything
But the old ones say there may be time learning from each other
The way that it had once been meant to be
There is still a trail of tears
There is still a trail of pain
And Jackson has got the Mississippi and the twenty dollar bill
But for us the trail of tears remains
And Jackson has got the Mississippi and the twenty dollar bill
But how long will the trail of tears remain
