Sussana Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own Creek The odyssey of your
A motherless , you were torn from your home By decree of the county Christians, they gave you a lily-white dress And back that Indian hair
Told ya study Bible, be silent and still And take to the ways of the Nothin they could break down your will For you ran for the gates one
Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream my own Creek blood Stories that you alive
Your , Joe Little, had woes of his own Drink was much than greed But some in the felt native red hands Were no place to let a deed
Oklahoma was rich the stench of black oil And the men who there to drill In the sun baked clay of Indian There, in the fields
Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood Songs keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh swept through the county the finger of blame Eyes turned to Joe A couple too many acres of land to his
No one have heard the lone shot in the night They never his bail Big Joey Little, never out Of Sheriff Stantons
Little Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own Creek The odyssey of your
For all of the lives you had lived far No part of you have known The evil hearts of the men who would ya One by the side of the road
The moon, it grew dark and the frost form ya finally were found Chained to a log in a torn dress Shakin wild on the ground
Little Sussana Gone I ever arrived that stream through my own creek blood Such the trials of your life...
Yet in the years to come, you a man five of your own And for a spell it was as as though The light of had shown
The that had written this part but for you And it all plenty hard Gave you a gusher, a well of oil There in your own back
So pile them 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 arrived Questions that stream through my own blood The odyssey of your
Sussana Little Sussana Little