Welcome to Thanksgiving
To the celebration of ones defeat
To your cultural insensitivity
Shown when you judge those without a feast

Let’s celebrate Columbus Day
In the spirit of the deceased
For the ones that were murdered
For the land beneath their feet

Take me to the reservation
For us to cringe at all the filth
To scold the alcoholics
To forget why these places were built

Draw another feather
Yodel to mock their prayers
That jiberish can’t mean anything
Why don’t they cut their hair?

You would know they’re all just savages
If only you’d open a history book
You could see they don’t know anything
You would know how little it took

Why do they hold on to past quarrels?
It wasn’t us who took their land
We didn’t rape their people
The blood isn’t on our hands


They should conform to our culture
This is our country now, our pride
Why spend time at a pow wow
When a simple get-together would suffice

I just don’t understand
How they could be so clueless of our ways
Why wouldn’t they conform?
What is there here to hate?

It couldn’t be our history
It couldn’t be our insensitivity
It couldn’t be our inability
To care about another’s differences

Our Thanksgiving doesn’t represent
The loss that it once presented
Columbus Day doesn’t stand
For the blood upon his hands

Yet for so many it does
And there are still those who stand
Carrying the weight of ones dying culture
In the palms of their hands
It’s unrealistic for us to assume
That we could truly understand
How it feels to be noticed
As no more than another
“Drunken Indian”