Last Man

My heart your paradise called
Secret water by the Sioux hack
Supplies first then hack spirit

When we don’t have anything
Left but this dance assimilation
Calls our names that is what it

Does like Hannah taught us to
Be silent what boundaries must
These hands forge to say any

Thing the spirit came and went
Don’t forget to write witness
When the shit hits the fan

Sitting Bull was the last man
Standing to what do you banish
Permanent exiles but to undeath

Promise me the imminent end
Of all white culture so all names
May return eccentric to need.