Who brings me water to put out my fire?

Who carries me up on wings of desire?

Where is this longing ahead or behind?

Am I really finding or losing my mind?

Should I be faithful or should I despair?

Should I lay down my arms or should I prepare?

When I am the Hunter

I am the Kill

I am the Stimulus

I am the Thrill

No I don’t want to hear our battle cries

Just want to hear our mutual sighs

As the years fall down before us

Like Cowboys and Indians

Cowboys and Indians

In the beginning was the Word

So how was the Word begun?

Did it start out as a stammer

Or as a confidence exchanged

Between the Moon and the Sun?

Was it a whisper or a mighty cry

A formal address or just an aside?

Or was it the mutual sigh

Of Adam and his Bride?

No I don’t want to hear our battle cries

Just want to hear our mutual sighs

As the years fall down before us

Like Cowboys and Indians

Cowboys and Indians

But that sly old Snake with its tongue of fire

Burnt a hole in the dress of human desire

With its false promises of so much more

Devoured by the flesh we threw away the core

“And for your transgression”, God said to the man:

“Your life and your work will go hand in hand”

And to the woman he said, “Since you’ve spoilt my plan

You’ll look for your saviour in every man”

Then out of the Garden, God led Adam and Eve

Said, “If you want to eat fruit

Now you’ll have to plant seeds!”

So now we’re east of Eden

Men and women take up sides

Marching daily into battle

Still wounded by this great divide

Brandishing love like a weapon

But without arrows and without guns

The west can still be rewon

Though the years fall down before us like

Cowboys and Indians

No I don’t want to hear our battle cries!

Just want to hear our mutual sighs

As the years fall down before us like Cowboys

and Indians

Cowboys and Indians

Cowboys and Indians

© Felicity Buirski 1988