The Ballad of the Choctaw-Apache

Well the east Texas wind
 Goes whistlin' through the pines
 And I followed it down to Lousianne
 There is a tribe
 And it ain't too hard to find
 Where the rich man came
 And flooded all the land
 They had no mercy on
 the people, old and young
 They were blinded by
 the silver on their tongues
 All the land that they'd take
 Just to build themselves a lake
 Well it ain't worth all the lives
 that they'd forsake
 Well a hundred eighty thousand acres
 of ancestral land
 That Sabine River bottom
 flooded by the dam
 I am a proud Choctaw-Apache man
 But it just don't mean a thing
 To the faces in your hand
 Back in 1963
 The land of the proud
 The brave, and free
 But it ain't that way
 For everyone, you see
 They washed out the land
 So be careful where you stand
 Like a boulder falling on
 A grain of sand
 I hope that dirty reservoir
 Was worth all of the lives you scarred
 And the people you left hangin' out to dry
 And lord knows they all tried
 Their best to turn the tide
 But there ain't no sense
 In waitin' round to die
 Well a hundred eighty thousand acres
 of ancestral land
 That Sabine River bottom
 flooded by the dam
 I am a proud Choctaw-Apache man
 But it just don't mean a thing
 To the faces in your hand
 Well my granny was a native
 From the Parish of Sabine
 And she raised her children the best way she knew how.
 They lived off the earth
 Back before the times of dearth
 They counted on the seed and the plow
 But the crops they all drowned
 In the water rushing down
 Only 25 bucks an acre they were paid
 Well you take away their home
 And you claim what you don't own
 Well I guess it's just the American way
 Well a hundred eighty thousand acres
 of ancestral land
 That Sabine River bottom
 flooded by the dam
 I am a proud Choctaw-Apache man
 But it just don't mean a thing
 To the faces in your hand