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| We are the red men, tall and quaint,
In our feathers and war paint. Pow-wow! Pow-wow! We’re the men of the Old Dun Cow, All of us are red men. Feathers in our head men, down among the dead men, Pow-wow! We can fight with sticks and stones, Bows and arrows, bricks and bones, etc. When we come home from fights and wars, We are greeted by our long-nosed squaws, etc. |