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Of all the roads I’ve travelled one true path remains
I could see it through the drifting snow; I could find it in the rain.
I can hear my people calling like a wind across the sand
When I walk this Reservation Road I am back on sacred land

The sound of the drum, an eagle’s wing
To my people these are sacred things
Visions of old, hope for the new
All that we ask for is a prayer for the truth
All we need is the truth

When I walk down by the river and I hear my Father’s call
As brothers we must live together, there is one sky above us all
If we forgive our betrayers, then the healing can begin
And the scars from our nation’s past can finally start to mend.

The sound of the drum, an eagle’s wing…

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