There once was an Indian Maid,
And she was so afraid,
That some buckaroo,
Would wop it up her flue,
As she lay sleeping in the shade.,
So whe had an idea grand,
And filled it up with sand,
So no buckaroo,
Could wop it up her flue,
And claim the promised land.
Oh the moon shines bright on pretty RedWing,
As whe lay sleeping,
A buck came creeping,
Opun his bollocks he came creeping,
To claim the promised land.
Now he was a redskin wise,
And parted RedWings thighs,
And with one grunt,
He wopped it up her cunt,
And little RedWing opened up her eyes.
Now as she came to life,
She grabbed her bowie knife,
And with one slash,
Cut his bollocks from his arse,
And now he's living in the pleasures of the past.
Oh the moon shines bright on pretty RedWing,
Above the awning,
There hangs a warning,
Two redskin bollocks are a warning,
Above the wigwam door.