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From the Indians who welcomed the Pilgrims
To the buffalo who once ruled the plains;
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds,
Looking for the rain/looking for the rain.
From the cities that stagger on the coast lines
In a nation that just can’t take much more/
Like the forest buried beneath the highways, never had a chance to grow/never had a chance to grow.
It’s winter; winter in America and all of the leaders have been killed or forced away.
It’s winter; winter in America and ain’t nobody fighting ’cause nobody knows what to save.
The con-stitution was a noble pieclearn more