I live in a brick-red canyon

In a cave by the side of a creek

And I hunt for my food and I search for my food

Maybe once or twice in a week

And the mountains range in the distance

As the dawning sun strikes their face

And the deer come down to the water

And I see them once a week

Avoiding the risk of scaring them off

I shyly take a peek

And the buffalo trample around me

They make me frightened and scared

So I retire at night to my cold dark cave

Having lost what I've not dared

I stand in the pool 'neath the waterfall

And I sing in the top of my voice

That water splashes and falls about

And noone hears me rejoice

And the cooking burns on my tiny fire

'Till the smoke fills up where I live

And I often do contemplate bigger fires

With meals to share and to give.

I live in a brick wall canyon

Muted and quiet and blind

Imprisoned by fear, by anguish and doubt

Scared of what I may find.