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• Artiste: New Model Army
• Titre: La Push
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We live in a bowl made of sky and stars Perched on the edge of the world And around the Reservation everyone drives In pick-ups and beaten-up cars And the rattles and drums they rise and they fall The circle unbroken in the village hall With the flag of the conquerors high on the wall And the sound of the foghorn on the island Bury my heart deep in the forest Perish my body in the cold, cold water And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe There were fish and there were whales out past the jagged rocks Sharp like the teeth of the bay And there are credit cheques cashed at the village store And junk food and beer for the day And the rattles and drums they rise and they fall In the circle unbroken in the village hall With the flag of the conquerors high on the wall And the sound of the foghorn on the island Bury my heart deep in the forest Perish my body in the cold cold water And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe Look away, look away, the wolf transforms into a man Some things should never be seen And a hundred great birds swoop down across the breakers And the Spirit Wind blows and things they just happen So bury my heart deep in the forest Perish my body in the cold cold water And bless what is left, bless what is left of the tribe