When they come from over the mountain Yeah we'll run we'll run right around them We've got no guns no we don't have any weapons Just our cornmeal and our children The dusk runs, the dark clouds, but not us, but not us While we pay for mistakes with no meaning All your gifts and all your peace is deceiving And still our pain dissolves with believing That peace comes, that peace comes, that peace comes, that peace comes Now that our bones lay buried below us Just like stones pressed into the earth Well we ain't known by no one before us And we begin with this one little birth That grows on, that grows on, that grows on, that grows on Crippled crow say something for grieving Where do we go once we start leaving? Well close that wound Or else keep on bleeding And change your tune It's got no meaning.