If you were still alive today

And I could sit and talk with you

What would you tell me Great Nan?

Would you reveal something new?

There’s not much we know about you

Just that of your violent death

Was there blood in the Kija Sand?

As you took your dying breath

We would love to learn your story

To find out who you were

Not just “Maggie Full Blood”

As it was written, without a care

But day after day we hunger

And year after year we look

And search through worn out pages

And in every historical book

But if I could just sit and talk with you

Just a little, little while

Would you tell me your broken story?

And would I be angry and wild

I know some hearts would be mended

We have cried for so very long

To hear of your Kija story

The Country to which you belong

There’s blood in the Kija sand

It trickles through every grain

It’s the heart cry of our fallen

To a ghostly white skinned stain

It is a permanent reminder

Of a past full of blood and heat

And it is there as proof to all

That history should never repeat