Out of the mist
Rising, ten thousand navajo braves
Shining like golden eagles in flight
Climbing high on the plain Born of the Earth
Set free to ride away with the sun
So free to sing in tune with the world
Gladly, dance for the rain So many moons have flown
Now all your ghosts dance along shadows
War cries that died on your lips
Echo above the plain.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
כל הזכויות שמורות 2022 ©