As I stand on the mountain,looking on high,
The wind as it whispers,the eagle he cries

The buffalo thunders no more on the plains,
The memory of people,so great was their pain,

Protecting and guiding,their spirits all the more,
Great Wakan Tanka,where do you roam,

I look on all this with eyes sharp and proud,
The memories of hurt that i wear like a shroud,

For i'm like the wind,that can never be broken,
Time is now passing,no words need be spoken,

The lands are all changed,but my people remain,
Their hearts that are healed,gone is their pain,

Great Spirit hear us,be always near,
For the lands we still care for and always hold dear....