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letra de snow blindness - jesse jack murray

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i’ve worked real steadily to put 1890 so far behind me, but i still see indians running from hotchkiss guns

so i give confession now, ’cause i’m never sure somehow that i will be here to see the morning sun as it rises over washington

december 29th: we had the ends in sight
the ground was lily-white, but oh, the earth was shaking with ghost dancers all around
we’ll quiet ’em down, boys, we’ll quiet ’em down

aladdin’s castle had descended, and the flag showed all the glory of a kingdom fat and lazy with a genie at our command
“the indian land, please, the indian land”

the war had been dragging on 200 summers strong
our only gospel was “start the century cleanly; avenge the big h-rn; avenge the time; for being born, for being blind”

the famous battery e, the first artillery, the 7th cavalry, and what was left of custer’s boys, four hotchkiss guns—k!lling machines, the likes of which they never had seen

we had orders to disarm ’em, round ’em up, and then transport ’em outside the zone of army operations
spotted elk, 230 men, 120 women and kids

i was never sure what happened
they said an indian started dancing, and a deaf man wouldn’t give up a rifle he’d paid a good price for
as things went south down in the camp, a gun went off, and that was it

who knows who fired first
d-mned if we weren’t all battle-thirsty; a flag of truce raised
but who of us really cared?
we shot ’em there; we shot ’em dead
i’m dropping ’em still inside my head

i saw the women run, their children holding on
i saw a mother whose baby continued nursing in the bl–dy snow after she’d gone
it continued on, it continued on

i pulled my hammer back just to get another crack in
the clouds rolled back, and the heavens’ mouth was opened
and i heard a cry from up above
it shriveled me up; god, it shriveled me up

after that, i left the army, and very quickly lost my money and spent some time seeking for my repentance
and i’ve sought it in tears, and i’ve sought it in praying
i’ve sought it some years, and so i think it’s worth saying
i never figured out what this was all about—life and death and forgiveness or the reasons that lightning strikes, but it ain’t struck me
perhaps that’s h-ll; perhaps i’ll see

perhaps these many hours spanning between then and now have mostly served to make my spirit ready to see that judge
but what could that mean when justice comes for something filthy as me?

and still i hear the words rumbling ’cross this land of ours
and father of all people, i had hoped you would be able—before i go, before i dare—what did it mean, what i heard out there?

- jesse jack murray

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