Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived that stream through my own Creek blood The odyssey of life
A child , you were torn from your home By decree of the county Good Christians, gave you a lily-white dress And shorn back that hair
Told ya study Bible, be silent and still And to the ways of the whites Nothin they offered could break your will For you ran for the gates one
Sussana Little Gone fore I arrived that stream through my own Creek blood Stories keep you alive
Your daddy , Joe Little, had of his own Drink was much than greed But some in the city felt native red Were no place to let a deed
Oklahoma was rich the stench of black oil And the men who came to drill In the sun clay of Indian lands There, in the desolate
Little Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that stream my own creek blood Songs keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they through the county the finger of blame Eyes turned to Joe A too many acres of land to his name
No one would have the lone shot in the night They never his bail Big Joey Little, never out Of Sheriff Stantons
Little Sussana Gone I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own blood The odyssey of your
For all of the lives you had lived far No part of you could have The hearts of the men who would fetch ya One by the side of the road
The moon, it grew and the frost would form Before ya were found Chained to a log in a torn white Shakin wild on the ground
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions stream through my own creek blood were the trials of your life...
Yet in the years to come, you a man Raised of your own And for a spell it was as almost as The of justice had shown
The hand that had this part but for you And it all plenty hard you a gusher, a well spring of oil There in your own back
So pile them in the plush back seat Ridin shotgun in the Packard to your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel The on your knee now
Little Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that through my own Creek blood The odyssey of life
Little Sussana Sussana Sussana