What Does It Matter How

First Kill Me Before You Take Possession Of My Fatherland.

What White Man Can Say I Never Stole His Land Or A Penny Of His Money? Yet They Say That I Am A Thief.

The Life My People Want Is A Life Of Freedom. I Have Seen Nothing That A White Man Has, Houses Or Railways Or Clothing Or Food, That Is As Good As The Right To Move In The Open Country And Live In Our Fashion.

I Have Killed, Robbed, And Injured Too Many White Men To Believe In A Good Peace. They Are Medicine, And I Would Eventually Die A Lingering Death. I Had Rather Die On The Field Of Battle. Look At Me, See If I Am Poor, Or My People Either. The Whites May Get Me At Last, As You Say, But I Will Have Good Times Till Then. You Are Fools To Make Yourselves Slaves To A Piece Of Fat Bacon, Some Hard-tack, And A Little Sugar And Coffee.

This Nation Is Like A Spring Freshet; It Overruns Its Banks And Destroys All Who Are In Its Path.