Bad Indian

Not a very good Indian
Maybe even a bad Indian

My cheekbones aren't high enough
My last name isn't a sentence
I don't have enough beadwork or turquoise and
I don't speak good pidgin English
Certainly not as good as
Johnny Depp did in that movie that one time

And I don't care if you connect with with Indian spiritualism
I could care less if you did a sweat lodge
With your Caucasian spirit guide who knew an Indian once
Sure, millions of Indians died, but tell me about your feelings
And cry your white tears

I'm just gonna be over here being a bad Indian

A woman once asked me my Indian name
And I said: It's Gregg
And she was so disappointed!
"NO" she said
"It has to be Red Eagle or Two Rivers!"
"Or 'Grey Skull'" I said
"YES! Wait, is that for real?!"
"No, no" I said, without her realizing my brief but
Generationally relevant He-Man joke
The kind of joke that would tell her that while Indian
I'm also having an American experience too
I finally said to her "How about 'Walking Eagle'"
"Yes! Yes!" She said, "but is that true?"
"Yes, it's totally true"
And I never had the heart to tell her
That the only time an eagle walks
Is when it's too full of shit to fly

Cause I'm a bad Indian

This one time a man walked into my space
And he Asked me some questions about my things
I tell him
When he suddenly interrupts me
As only a white man can
With all the euro-swagger of a man
Who's people where so sure of their place in the universe
Their place in the world
Their place in the eyes of God

You speak real good for a
Native American
An indian
A savage
A pagan
A prairie n---r
A godless heathen
And I would be justified in punching him
And I would be justified In cursing him out
And I would be justified In calling him a racist
But That would make me a bad Indian
Which contradicts that old saying
You know the one
The only good Indian is a dead Indian
Well I'm a bad Indian

And I'm here