Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that through my own Creek blood The odyssey of your
A child , you were torn from your home By decree of the county Good Christians, they gave you a lily-white And shorn back Indian hair
Told ya study your Bible, be silent and And to the ways of the whites Nothin they could break down your will For you ran for the gates one
Sussana Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that stream through my own blood Stories that you alive
Your daddy , Joe Little, had of his own Drink was much 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 there to drill In the sun baked of Indian lands There, in the desolate
Sussana Little Gone fore I ever Questions that stream through my own blood Songs keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they swept through the Waving the of blame turned to Joe Little A too many acres of land to his name
No one would have heard the lone shot in the They never his bail Big Joey Little, never out Of Sheriff Stantons
Little Sussana Gone fore I ever that stream through my own Creek 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 fetch ya One night by the side of the
The moon, it dark and the frost would form Before ya were found Chained to a log in a torn dress wild eyed on the ground
Sussana Little Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own creek were the trials of your life...
Yet in the years to come, you a man Raised of your own And for a spell it was as as though The of justice had shown
The hand that had written part but for you And it all plenty hard Gave you a gusher, a spring of oil There in own back yard
So them kids in the plush back seat Ridin in the Packard to town With man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel The other on your now
Sussana Little Gone fore I ever Questions that through my own Creek blood The of your life
Little Sussana Little Sussana