When The Green Hills Are

Your God Is Not Our God! Your God Loves Your People And Hates Mine! He Folds His Strong Protecting Arms Lovingly About The Paleface And Leads Him By The Hand As A Father Leads An Infant Son.

Like A Man Who Has Been Dying For Many Days, A Man In Your City Is Numb To The Stench.

Take Only Memories, Leave Only Footprints.

There Is No Quiet Place In The White Man's Cities. No Place To Hear The Unfurling Of Leaves In Spring, Or The Rustle Of An Insect's Wings. But Perhaps It Is Because I Am A Savage And Do Not Understand. The Clatter Only Seems To Insult The Ears.

My Words Are Like The Stars That Never Change.