He was just a boy,
They called him Rising Sun,
He grew up proud and strong.
Sound of ancient songs,
Ringing in his ears,
For so many years.
Now he's grown a man,
The music dies,
Just hear the sound of battlefights
.
Hear the shooting guns,
The soldiers rise,
The Indian run.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
Hear the distant drums,
Fighting their last fight,
It ended overnight.
Gave his life in vain,
Rising Sun,
Won't shine again.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
Once the Indians were free,
To live in their own country,
Then came the white man,
He took away their land,
And only one of them survived,
He is the last Apache.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
The last Apache.
They called him Rising Sun,
He grew up proud and strong.
Sound of ancient songs,
Ringing in his ears,
For so many years.
Now he's grown a man,
The music dies,
Just hear the sound of battlefights
.
Hear the shooting guns,
The soldiers rise,
The Indian run.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
Hear the distant drums,
Fighting their last fight,
It ended overnight.
Gave his life in vain,
Rising Sun,
Won't shine again.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
Once the Indians were free,
To live in their own country,
Then came the white man,
He took away their land,
And only one of them survived,
He is the last Apache.
Ride on, Indian soldier,
You want to be free,
Give him back his country,
He's the last Apache,
The last Apache.
The last Apache.
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
