Sussana Sussana Gone fore I ever that stream through my own Creek blood The odyssey of your
A motherless child , you were torn your home By decree of the county Good Christians, they you a lily-white dress And shorn that Indian hair
Told ya study your Bible, be and still And take to the ways of the Nothin they offered could break down your For you ran for the one night
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood Stories that keep you
Your , Joe Little, had woes of his own Drink was much stronger than But some in the city felt red hands no place to let rest a deed
Oklahoma was with the stench of black oil And the men who came there to In the sun baked clay of Indian There, in the fields
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that through my own creek blood Songs thata you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they swept through the Waving the finger of Eyes turned to Joe A couple too acres of land to his name
No one would have heard the lone shot in the They never posted his Big Little, never walked out Of Stantons jail
Little Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that stream my own Creek blood The of your life
For all of the lives you had lived far No part of you could have The evil hearts of the men who would ya One night by the of the road
The moon, it grew dark and the frost form Before ya were found Chained to a log in a torn white Shakin eyed on the ground
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood Such were the trials of life...
Yet in the years to come, you a man five of your own And for a it was as almost as though The light of justice had
The that had written this part but for you And made it all hard you a gusher, a well spring of oil There in your own yard
So pile kids in the plush back seat Ridin shotgun in the Packard to your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel The other on your now
Little Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream my own Creek blood The odyssey of life
Sussana Little Sussana Little