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From Mountain high to Forest edge
 and thru' the seasons change,
our species roamed, unhindered,
o'er the Prairies endless range.
In millions plus we trod the land,
an ever growing herd.
With water, grass to meet our need.
No human voice was heard.
Tho' some would come to touch our lives,
their way of life maintain,
the harvest from our ranks was small,
and freedom we retain.
We were food and shelter, tools for some
who dwelt upon the land.
Tho' not our will to give our lives,
we are in Natures hand.
But sometimes Nature stands aside,
or maybe leaves the scene.
For men, unhindered, sought our kind,
our fertile field to glean.
From all around the thunder roared,
the rain would pierce our side.
The storm, unchecked, unleashed it's greed,
there was no place to hide.
This storm of man pursued the herd
their thunder laid us down.
No hunger for our meat,but yet
our life flowed into ground.
Our bones lay whitened by the sun
until there came a need
to sow our souls into the earth,
and nurture other seed.
Across the vast unsettled land,
beyond where eye could see,
we helped Good Nature keep this soil
as fertile as could be.
Now on this land man plants his crops,
a sight for all to see.
Yet in our place, protected now,
we are BUFFALO....wild
and free.
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