Grant Lee Phillips - Susanna Little - Sözleri

Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own Creek blood


The odyssey of your life





A motherless child , you were torn from your home


By decree of the county affairs


Good Christians, they gave you a lily-white dress


And shorn back that Indian hair





Told ya study your Bible, be silent and still


And take to the ways of the whites


Nothin’ they offered could break down your will


For you ran for the gates one night





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own Creek blood


Stories that keep you alive





Your daddy , Joe Little, had woes of his own


Drink was much stronger than greed


But some in the city felt native red hands


Were no place to let rest a deed





Oklahoma was rich with the stench of black oil


And the men who came there to drill


In the sun baked clay of Indian lands


There, in the desolate fields





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own creek blood


Songs that’a keep you alive





Mysterious crimes, oh they swept through the county


Waving the finger of blame


Eyes turned to Joe Little


A couple too many acres of land to his name





No one would have heard the lone shot in the night


They never posted his bail


Big Joey Little, never walked out


Of Sheriff Stanton’s jail





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own Creek blood


The odyssey of your life





For all of the lives you had lived this far


No part of you could have known


The evil hearts of the men who would fetch ya


One night by the side of the road





The moon, it grew dark and the frost would form


Before ya finally were found


Chained to a log in a torn white dress


Shakin’ wild eyed on the ground





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own creek blood


Such were the trials of your life...





Yet in the years to come, you took a man


Raised five of your own


And for a spell it was as almost as though 


The light of justice had shown





The hand that had written this part but for you


And made it all plenty hard


Gave you a gusher, a well spring of oil


There in your own back yard





So pile them kids in the plush back seat


Ridin’ shotgun in the Packard to town


With your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel


The other on your knee now





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Gone ‘fore I ever arrived


Questions that stream through my own Creek blood


The odyssey of your life





Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Sussana Little


Sussana Little














		
			



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