I Am Nothing, Neither A

Healthy Feet Can Feel The Very Heart Of Mother Earth.

What White Woman, However Lonely, Was Ever Captive Or Insulted By Me? Yet They Say I Am A Bad Indian.

Each Man Is Good In The Sight Of The Great Spirit.

When I Was A Boy, The Sioux Owned The World. The Sun Rose And Set On Their Land; They Sent Ten Thousand Men To Battle. Where Are The Warriors Today? Who Slew Them? Where Are Our Lands? Who Owns Them?

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.