Dust flies high in the midday sun On the quivering plain Falls like rain, feels like thunder Dressed in skins, the Blackfoot drive The buffalo To the rocks below, hunters plunder The waiting ones they dance around the slain To celebrate the harvest of the plain Makes me wonder Makes me wonder Makes me wonder Salt meat, moccasined feet Wigwams, rattles in hands Salt meat, moccasined feet Wigwams, rattles in hands Smoke cloud in a pool room bar In the middle of the night Looking for a fight He stalks the table Slow move, a shuffling step And a trembling hand A shadow of the man, barely able And the hunter's watchful eyes now search the floor, Oh, but he can't find a purpose anymore Makes me wonder Makes me wonder Makes me wonder Dead beat, stumbling feet Beer cans rattle in hands Dead beat, stumbling feet Beer cans rattle in hands Salt meat, moccasined feet Wigwams, rattles in hands Dead beat, stumbling feet Beer cans rattle in hands Salt meat, moccasined feet Wigwams, rattles in hands Dead beat, stumbling feet Beer cans rattle in hands Salt meat, moccasined feet Wigwams, rattles in hands