Christians Murdered Indians

500 Years Of Manifest Destiny

Even in the initial stages of contact between European Christians and Native Indians people the stage was set for ethnocentrism, and the attitude towards the Indians was that of Christian superiority. The Indians were read a proclamation in Spanish which they had no hope of understanding. They had no hope of understanding the death sentence they were being read, and it went something like this.

"We ask and require you to acknowledge the church as the ruler and superior of the whole world and the high priest called pope and in his name the king of Spain as lords of this land. If you submit we shall receive you in all love and charity and shall leave you, your wives and children free without servitude, but if you do not submit we shall powerfully enter into your country and shall make war against you, we shall take you and your wives and your children and shall make slaves of them and we shall take away your goods and do you all the harm and damage we can."

2000 years ago we were all tribal.
Then came the missionaries with their fucking bible.
1492 began the termination.
The holocaust of our Indian nation.

Yeah with Christian love and a moral authority,
they killed our medicine men and stole our country.
I never claimed this shit was poetry,
it's just the fucking lies of Christianity.

You will pray to the lord and get down on your knees.
Here's a cross for your back and the coughing disease.
Though you helped us survive we will laugh while you bleed,
then deny what we did, write our own history.
We will kidnap your children and cut off their hair.
Silence their language and outlaw their prayers.
Beat them blind until they believe
in the blood of Jesus Christ our king.

Christians murdered Indians!

Columbus murdered children and now we have a holiday.
Still you want to deny your history?
Look to the sky for your god to justify,
as you commit cultural genocide.
Christians came and the natives they did hang
13 at a time for Jesus and his gang.
We are the ones you had to dehumanize,
so your murder and greed could be justified.

The belly of the church is full
with the blood of all those heathen fools.
Who would not receive the gift of Christ?
So we burned them as a sacrifice.
To our baby killing god above,
to our mother church and all her love,
we will steal their gods and subjugate.
Those who don't believe we'll annihilate.

"The Spaniards made bets as to who could slit a man in two or cut off his head with one blow. They tore babies from their mother's breast by their feet and dashed their head against the rocks. They hanged Indians by thirteen in honor and reverence for their redeemer and their twelve apostles. They put wood underneath and with fire burned the Indians alive."

Christians murdered Indians!

We believe in the earth, the sky and dreams.
The universe and the creator who gave us these.
The sacred gift of life and human beings.
That makes you perpetrate the hate to annihilate.
So here I am the savage, civilized.
Voice of the dead and my ancestor's cries.
And like the ghosts of this land you can't erase,
I see blood on the hand's of the master race.

500 years of manifest destiny.
500 years of manifest destiny.
500 years of manifest destiny.
500 years of resistance to the enemy.

You have faith in the rivers, the mountains, the trees.
We've a murdering god to replace all of these.
With the blood of forgiveness you too can be free.
Or the wrath of Jehovah you're sure to receive.
We will baptize you with the blood of the lamb.
With the sword and the gospel we will conquer your land.
You will join our church and be glad to be saved.
Or we'll slaughter your children and your women we'll rape.

Christian's murdered Indians!

I see blood on the hand's of the master race
I see blood on the hand's of the master race
I see blood on the hand's of the master race
I see blood on the hand's of the master race

Artist: Corporate Avenger
Album: Freedom Is A State Of Mind

Rebel Yell

Artist: Billy Idol

Rapture

Artist: Blondie

Drink With The Living Dead

Artist: GhoulTown
From the CD: Life After Sundown
Art by: Juha Vuorma
Directed by: Laume Conroy

I was sittin in The Thirsty Devil
one sheet hung to the wind
when the bat wings doors creaked open 
and a stranger sauntered in
he moved his head from side to side 
and glared with a sunken eye
I heard the spin of a rusty spur 
as he shook off the dreary night

he lowered his hat, checked his gun 
and headed toward the bar
walked on up beside me
I knew he'd traveled far
in a voice as thick as mud 
he looked to the 'keep and said...
"one shot of whiskey for myself 
and one for my new friend"

the patrons whispered hushed and low
they seemed to be afraid
as if a ghost had stood right up 
and walked out of its grave
his face was shallow and dirty
his skin like leather hide
sure he spoke like any man
but something wasn't right

so I twisted on my stool
turned to him and said
"thank you sir, but just the same, 
I'm chasin worms instead"
he growled and shoved the drink my way 
his eyes cold as death
"I pick the drinks, you knock 'em back
else draw against my hand"

chorus:
when it's six to midnight
and the boney hand of death is nigh
you better drink your drink and shut your mouth
if you draw against his hand, you can never win
go ahead... drink with the living dead

"who the hell do you think you are?" 
my patience growin thin
but swallow hard, I had to do, 
when the story he began
his lips curled back and words came forth
starting up the tale
and every face inside that bar 
turned a shade of pale

"my name is Stanton Cree 
and I died three years before
I shot a man to steal his drink
at least that's what they hung me for
now I'm cursed to walk the earth 
and challenge every night
a man to match me drink for drink
or by the bullet die"

"now wait a minute, mister, 
no one makes me a fool"
I pushed the shot of whiskey 
back on over towards the ghoul
"I love a drink like any man 
but that's a losin game
to drink or draw against the dead 
would only be insane"

Stanton Cree tipped his hat 
and laughed a wicked laugh
"you see, the lord cursed my soul 
for killin that poor man
there ain't no choice so you must try 
to match me shot for shot
if you win, then you'll go free
and I can finally rot"

the barhop nodded slowly 
and I knew that I was screwed
if I chose to duel the dead
then I would surely lose
so I took the glass 
and threw the shot into my throat
I would match him drink for drink 
no matter if I choked

whiskey, tequila, vodka, rum or gin
ain't no man that I can't beat
be him live or dead
so into the morning 
I matched him ounce for ounce
til Stanton Cree fell over 
and a winner was announced

now he rests in his pine box 
and I still walk the streets
but I don't forget the night 
when death had chosen me
there ain't no fancy moral 
to go with this I fear
unless you aim to kill a man
and drink down his last beer!