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dead pioneers - bad indian lyrics

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i’m not a very good indian
maybe even a bad indian

my cheekbones aren’t high enough
my last name isn’t a sentence
i don’t have enough beadwork or turquoise
i don’t speak good pidgin english
certainly not as good as johnny depp did in that movie that one time
i don’t care if you connect with with indian spiritualism
i could care less if you did a sweat lodge with your caucasian spirit guide who knew an indian once
sure, millions of indians died, but tell me about your feelings
and cry your white tears

i’m a bad indian

a woman once asked me my indian name
i said: it’s gregg
and she was so disappointеd!
“no” she said
“it has to be red eaglе or two rivers!”
“or ‘grey skull’” i said
“yes! wait, is that for real?!”
“no, no” i said, without her realizing my brief but generationally relevant he+man joke
the kind of joke that would tell her that while indian
i’m having an american experience too
i finally said to her “how about ‘walking eagle’”
“yes! yes!” she said, “but is that true?”
“yes, it’s totally true”
i never did have the heart to tell her that an eagle only walks when it’s too full of sh+t to fly
i’m a bad indian

this one time a man walks into my sp+ce
asks me questions about my things
i tell him
when he suddenly interrupts
as only a white man can
with all the euro+swagger of a man who’s people where so sure of their place in the universe
their place in the world
their place in the eyes of god
you speak real good for a
native american
an indian
a savage
a pagan
a prairie n+++++
a godless heathen
and i would be justified in punching him
in cursing him out
in calling him racist

that would make me a bad indian
which contradicts that old saying
you know the one:
the only good indian is a dead indian
i’m a bad indian
i’m here



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