Sussana Little Gone fore I ever Questions that through my own Creek blood The of your life
A child , you were torn from your home By of the county affairs Good Christians, gave you a lily-white dress And shorn back that hair
ya study your Bible, be silent and still And to the ways of the whites Nothin offered could break down your will For you ran for the gates one
Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that through my own Creek blood that keep you alive
Your , Joe Little, had woes of his own was much stronger than greed But some in the city felt native red Were no place to let a deed
Oklahoma was rich with the stench of oil And the men who came to drill In the sun baked clay of lands There, in the fields
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that through my own creek blood thata keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they through the county Waving the finger of turned to Joe Little A couple too many acres of land to his
No one would have heard the lone shot in the never posted his bail Big Little, never walked out Of Stantons jail
Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood The odyssey of your
For all of the you had lived this far No part of you could known The evil hearts of the men who would ya One night by the side of the
The moon, it dark and the frost would form ya finally were found Chained to a log in a white dress Shakin eyed on the ground
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood were the trials of your life...
Yet in the years to come, you a man Raised five of own And for a it was as almost as though The light of had shown
The hand that had written this but for you And made it all plenty Gave you a gusher, a spring of oil There in your own back
So them kids in the plush back seat shotgun in the Packard to town With your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the The on your knee now
Sussana Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that stream through my own blood The of your life
Sussana Sussana Little Sussana