The trail was long, the journey harsh
crossing a thousand miles of mountain and marsh
and in the place where proud people those
cried the tears that watered Cherokee Rose.
Oh Spirit Wolf, oh Spirit Owl
hear the winter winds that howl.
Oh Spirit Eagle, oh Spirit Deer
why did so many have to die here?
One nation prospered, one nation fell.
One went to heaven, one was sent to hell.
Cherokee Rose that blooms in spring
reminds us of the songs they sing.
White petals, a sign of those tears
that still wet the ground after a hundred fifty years
remind us all of what was lost
from proud people who bore the ultimate cost.
Seven petals for seven tribes
growing on the trail where they cried.
Center of gold for the land white men stole.
Four thousand of my ancestors died.