American chords by Nashville Session Players

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GuitarPianoUkulele

Verse 1
Eb 
I am the master of Sequoia,
spirit friend of American nations,
eternal logos of wisdom sages,
infinity, cosmic, ages.
I am the author of peace and love,
but my right hand holds the thunder.
Those who deceive and
oppress my people,
my white horse soon will trample under.
We all bow to Big Chief,
Great Spirit of Oglala Sioux Sky,
who makes his reign fall on
the evil and good,
and hears the oppressed
when they cry.
We believe in helping a stranger in need,
and believe in brotherhood.
The avarice way of the
savage light hand,
we've never really quite understood.
We all bow to Big Chief,
our father of American nations.
Never killing or planting
more than we need,
we have reverence for all his creations.
For 12 ,000 years we hunted in peace,
gathered food and planted his seed.
We seldom knew more than minor warfare
and never heard of such insatiable greed.
We all bow to Big Chief,
great God of the natural flow.
We like to share all things in common
and offer half when supplies
are low.
They called us subhuman and savage
for refusing to buy and sell land
and repaid our kindness with evil
when we offered them a
helping hand.
There's a drumbeat
sounding in the distance.
The trail of tears continues to grow,
As they rape the home
of our children's future,
And ignore the true path that we know.
Misery and destruction follow their feet,
The law of peace they have not known,
And as sure as mighty
rivers flow to the sea,
They will reap what they
have sown.
Vengeance is mine, says Big Chief,
And though our tears flow down like rain,
We know that someday we will prevail,
And be one with the eagle again.
Now whether our lot be good or bad,
No matter which way the wind blows,
We all bow to Big Chief,