Indian Bones

Up the mountain we go

Don't ask why, I don't know.

The North Star dances above,

the white dove

The stairway that never ends,

ends around the bend

through the door of the sun

the buffalo run to be chased

through the sky

Higher and higher we climb

I'm not having a good time

the North Star dances above

the white dove...

Out on the plains, I had a

vision of iron and steel

Isn't it strange, that my

vision is real