Suburb cities made from toothpick wood that came from tall green pine trees in the mountains

Suburb cities made from toothpick wood that came from tall green pine trees in the mountains.
Planted there by ancient mystic warriors. Rode on painted ponies we did find them.

Stole their land, killed the lame. Put the rest in fences.
Send the guards. Keep them safe.
Buffaloes do dances.

Clouds rise up from purple peaks made famous by the postcards sent from fall vacations.
Magic cards record what red men saw before a Polaroid was mere convention.

Bought a rug. Brought it home. Put it by the TV.
Watched all night. Went to bed.
Back to work next morning.

Rain falls down from wrenching god's made angry. Only placate ways are hid in Bibles.
Thoughtful words forgotten long ago redeemed by precious few in smaller circles.

Payments due. Next in line. Stand before the Captain.
Back again. Try once more. Life in countless circles.
Stole their land, killed the lame. Put the rest in fences.
Send the guards. Keep them safe.
Buffaloes do dances.