In the land they call the west

On the prarie's virgin crest

Lived a great man and his braves

And he led them to their graves



Big chief plays with baby son

The work of the indian today is done

Life is easy, life is grand

'til there is white man, gun in hand



Started out when settlers came

And built their homes on the indian range

Big chief woolly bosher liked it none

Traded with a bad man for a gun



Big chief looks out at his great land

Locomotive on the prairie stands

Life that leak from the city in the east

Let us destroy that iron beast



Big chief rides on the trail tonight

Tread the land for which he must fight

In their fight for love and glory

Some indians were saved

They lived to tell the story

And woolly bosher prays



Big chief rides on the trail tonight

Soldier boys marching in the morning light

Bring the guns, bring the bows

Let's blow them into heaven let's see if god knows



One hundred men must have to die

When a thousand soldiers look you in the eye

Big chief sees his men fall round

The soldiers kill and the bugle sounds



In their fight for love and glory

No indians were saved

And big chief woolly bosher

Had written on his grave

He has done no wrong

Except being bold