Sheena Koops, Settler Descendant
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this heart of mine
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this land of mine
They are living documents, First Peoples’ and the Crowns’
Building blocks of Canada, to which we are bound
Sacred agreements, the pipe and the pen
Brother to brother; peace, good-order to men
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this heart of mine
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this land of mine
My Indian Brothers of the plains, I shake hands with you today
I shake hands in my heart, God has given us a good day
I trust His eye is upon us, and all that we do
Will be for the benefit of our children, Lieutenant Governor Morris told this to…
Chief Ben Pasqua, he was there, September 1874
On the Pasqua Pictograph, he documented Treaty 4
Now his Great, Great Granddaughter, honours me as her friend
We shake hands in our hearts — Witaskewan
But the Indian Act came along, Treaty broken across the land
Residential School stole the children, Systemic Racism played its hand
And the Settlers, we closed our eyes, with worries of our own
And the Treaties were forgotten, as history has shown
Well it’s time we opened up our eyes, Promise Breakers be no more
This land we call Canada, from shore to shore to shore
Is calling us to honour our word, our law, our truth
We are the Seventh Generation; if not us, then who?
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this heart of mine
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this land of mine… of ours…
Getting along with others, Miyowicehtowin
Making a living, Pimacihowin
Living together on the land, Witaskewin
We are the people of Turtle Island; the Treaty makes us kin
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this heart of mine
As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines
As long as the river flows, through this land of ours…
And a little extra from our Sweet Mary M!
Well, it looks like these “treaties” are coming to an end. The rivers are not flowing the sun is not shining from smoke. We we white folks will now give the earth back to the people who love it. Too bad it’s trash. I am so sad.