Ian & Sylvia — The Renegade

[Verse 1] Up on the hillside policemen were climbin' The ghosts of the night wind their fantasies did tell Dark on the snow were the blood drops a-dryin' Slipped through cold fingers a whiskey bottle fell [Chorus] Kla-how-ya, mother, I leave you with your white man I curse their church that tells us that our fathers were wrong And I'll hunt my own mowitch, and I'll drink my own whiskey And I'll sing until morning the old fashioned song [Verse 2] Fires of the potlatch are scattered in their ashes Masache-tamanawis, the еvil ones remain And our children cannot follow thе old nor the new ways And the poles of their fathers are rotting in the rain [Chorus] Kla-how-ya, mother, I leave you with your white man I curse their church that tells us that our fathers were wrong And I'll hunt my own mowitch, and I'll drink my own whiskey And I'll sing until morning the old fashioned song [Verse 3] Daylight came late over high coastal mountains The renegade stood watching with his rifle by his side Then he emptied his gun up into the pale yellow sunrise And he ran down the hillside to the place where he died [Chorus] Kla-how-ya, mother, I leave you with your white man I curse their church that tells us that our fathers were wrong And I'll hunt my own mowitch, and I'll drink my own whiskey And I'll sing until morning the old fashioned song