Recalling the long, historical struggle of native Americans to find their place in American life, I commemorate their struggle in a song I composed and sang, many years ago, about the battle at Little Big Horn, Montana :
As the stars began to fall, the sun began to rise, bringing light to a newer day, and bringing light to their eyes. Hovering like a spectre, the Little Big Horn sat, and little did Custer know . . .
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