Psalm Of Sand Creek (Psalms For The Spiritually Dead - 2010)
Smoke from broken camps, smoke from broken contracts, borne out on November winds. A flock of seven hundred sheep, led by one who cruelly preached. A man who coldly traded blood for blood. At the bend of old Sand Creek, the men out hunting to the east. The women and their children fast asleep. Who is to blame for this most shameful thing? Chivington's soldiers take aim. They mowed them down with rifle fire. They ran them through with sabers. They pulled the babes from where they hid and snuffed their lives with hatred. Though they huddled 'neath the flag, there was no shelter to be had. The ground was clotted thick with blood and scalps. Who takes the blame for this tragic scene? May Chivington be smothered in flames. Nothing lives too long; only earth and mountains.
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