Transcribed by:

Chris Drummond Scott Holcomb

I am an Indian
I've been travelin'
Through your highways
And your bi-ways
I've climbed the mountain
To find my family
Found them in a glass case
In the Smithsonian

I am an Indian
I've been travelin'
Through your causeways
And your roadways
A thousand years ago
I lived so peaceful
Living and dying
Underneath the blue skies

Oh, the skies are blue
Skies are blue
Skies are blue
For you, too

Spoken:
A Native American boy and his father were traveling westward in a station wagon.
On the way out to California, they came upon the great, sacred Black Hills of the Sioux.
And the boy looked out of his window, and he saw these four men carved in the side of this mountain.
He asked his father who these four men were, and his father said,
"Son, those are four great American presidents, leaders, and chiefs."
So as they drove on down the road, the boy was thinking about it, he's thinking about it, he's thinking about it, he's thinking about the word "chief".
He said "Hey dad, which one was Jeronimo?
Which one was Sitting Bull?
Which one was Chief Seattle?
Which one was Crazy Horse?
Which one was Crazy Horse?"
His father said "Son, you don't understand. You’re an Indian. You have no monuments. All you have are

The skies of blue,
The skies of blue,
The skies of blue,
That hold the truth."

Mokalaja was an Indian
Staring westward
Down main street again
Push me westward
To the desert
Fence me in
With rattlesnakes and whiskey

I am an Indian
You broke your promises
All I have is blue sky
I am an Indian
You broke your promises
All I have is blue sky

Oh, the skies are blue
Skies are blue
Skies are blue
For you, too

Oh, the skies are blue
Skies are blue
Skies are blue
For you, too

last updated:2/26/2001