Текст пісні
Susan Little, Susan Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
They oughta save your life
A motherless child you were torn from your home
By decree of the county affairs
Good Christians they gave you a lily white dress
And they shorn back that Indian hair
Told you study your bible, be silent and still
And take to the ways of the whites
Nothing they offered could break down your will
For you ran for the gates one night
Susan Little, Susan Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
Stories that keep you alive
Your Daddy Joe Little had woes of his own
Drink was much stronger than greed
But some in the city felt native red hands
Were no place to let rest a deed
Oklahoma was rich with the stench of black oil
And the men who came there to drill
In the sun-baked clay of Indian lands
There in the desolate fields
Susan Little, Susan Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
Songs that'll keep you alive
Mysterious crimes as they swept through the county
Wavin' the finger of blame
Eyes turned to Joe Little a couple too many
Of acres of land to his name
No one would have heard the lone shot in the night
They never posted his bail
Big Joey Little he never walked out
Of Sheriff Stanton's jail
Susan Little, Susan Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
They oughta save your life
For all of the lives you had lived this far
No part of you could have known
The evil hearts of the men who would fetch you
One night by the side of the road
The moon it grew dark and the frost would form
Before you finally were found
Chained to a log in a torn white dress