The wind lies asleep in the trees mantle
And picks up now whose sway is gentle
Something in the breeze rolls on as to plead
An ancient war god the piasa tribe

As his head is buzzing with the bees
Some drink he has tried to over imbibe
Old bird takes revenge to pound the chief
But his men take aim beyond the trees

And the wind swift carries the spears
Hurries every Hilly step on the bluff
Lifts his wings like a dinosaur bird bores
To make a fast getaway in the air

Flies he like the pain within, a huff
And puffing the Indian god is happy there
O he celebrates the morning sun and dares
The wind which trails from the south

But is like the spring and brings up the bough
Of the trees' sway pleasant far up to plain
Sends the prairie schooner to cross the chain
It all depends on rivers current bends