A long, long time ago there lived an Indian boy,
When he came upon this Earth he brought his family joy.
A paranoid young brave was he, inside his frame was some misery,
He heard the other warriors talking angrily 'bout the white man taking over his country.

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What he didn't know, is that some day his ma would be crying.
What he didn't know, is that some day his tribe would be dying.
What he didn't know, is that some day his father'd be gone.
What he didn't know, is that some day he'd be all alone.

None of the stories in the schoolbooks said it, the truth is gone and they're tryin' to forget it.
The history books are all one-sided, the truth is gone and their trying to hide it.
Who had the land 'till we came around? The Indian made his life from the ground.
And what about the boy that this story's about? Where his tee-pee once stood there now is a town.

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He was the loneliest rider on the plain.
He was the loneliest rider on the plain.
He was the loneliest rider on the plain.