There were many, many little children among the
Young and old who died up on the trail of Tears
Before they reached the other side.
Sometimes at night I seen to hear a little Cherokee Baby cry
And I seem to see campfires that burned for 10.000 years gone by.
And I heard a voice cry out.
These were our homes for all these years.
And the trail that takes us away will surely be a trail of tears.
There were many, many little children among the
Young and old who died up on the trail of Tears
Before they reached the other side.
The Cherokee looked up and saw that the autumn of their fat
Was burning bright upon the hills and their hour was getting late
And with the spring their smokes would here no longer touch the sky.
Their lives here, like the last autumn leaves, would be a thing gone by.
There were many, many little children among the
Young and old who died up on the trail of Tears
Before they reached the other side.
The Cherokee who held on to their homes until the end
Asked to remain beside the whites who once bad been their friend.
Here the Cherokee Phoenix would no more touch the sky
Forced upon a westward march thousands would die.
There were many, many little children among the
Young and old who died up on the trail of Tears
Before they reached the other side.
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