*While I know that this is not my tale to tell, and this story belongs to the Indigenous Nations of Canada and the world, especially those of the Red Pheasant Nation, I am grateful for my opportunities to have been able to write and release this song. Though I wrote it, this song does not belong to me.
This is the only song off of the album that is free for download. Just place "0" (zero) in the price you wish to pay.
lyrics
August ninth, two thousand and sixteen
When the sky was blue and the fields were green in rural Saskatchewan,
A young man left home
From the Red Pheasant Nation and took the day to roam
Colten Boushie and his friends took their truck down to the Maymont River
And when the wind blew through the aspen leaves, they seemed to shimmer
Was early evening when they were headed back
Crossing bridges and crossing tracks, they got a flat tire, pulled over on a farm
Belonging to a man, angry and armed
Gerald Stanly took his rifle down from the wall when he saw Colten in the shed
And at point blank range, shot a bullet into the back of his head
Colten's mother heard knocking that night
Seven cruisers, seven rows of lights,
Then they stormed into her home, said, "Ma'm, you've lost a son"
Rummaged through every room like they were looking for someone
Treated like a criminal, they showed no remourse
While Debbie Baptiste cried for her son on the living room floor
February ninth, twenty-eighteen
Stanly sat in front of an all-white jury, said the gun just went off
But experts say it worked perfectly
All charges dropped; acquitted, not guilty
And he walked outta' that courthouse and went home to his family
How good they must feel to be white in white man's country
Colten Boushie was only twenty-two, had all that livin' left to do
Ceremonial fire keeper, a brother and a son
Murdered in cold blood by the man who shot the gun
And we must fight for the ones with their family's blood upon them
Address racist politics and the ones who cause them
Some members of the white community
Said 'Stanly did em' a favour, shootin' Boushie'
'Due to a rise, in young first nations crimes'
Talkin' like petty theft is worth a human life
The same colonial mind that murdered millions in the seventeenth century
Is hiding behind the inclusive reputation of our country
Its in the water, in the air, in your town and on your T.V.
And so we hang the flag upside down
supported by 17 fans who also own “The Ballad of Colten Boushie”
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