Ballad of Larry Leventhal
He traveled the country over like a troubadour.
The legal briefs he’d written, scattered across the floor.
Yet, he knew exactly where to find all he wrote.
The truth burned in his soul, and he never gave up hope.
Agile and alive; incredibly well read.
Never one to rush in, where angels fear to tread.
In courtrooms fought Federal Marshalls and the F.B.I.
During the occupation, he stood behind the lines.
A warrior for the people with a legal pad.
Waving a flashlight for the small planes to land.
Filled with supplies to meet the needs
of the freedom fighters at Wounded Knee.
After the occupation charges were made
by the government against the leadership of A.I.M.
The first one called was Larry Leventhal.
Then William Kuntsler, Mark Lane, Ken Tilsen, Doug Hall
to represent those in the lead at Wounded Knee.
After nine months in the courtroom, they were all set free.
Over one-hundred million indigenous people of this earth.
Colonized, brutalized from the moment of their birth.
Wrongfully imprisoned for over forty-years,
as a final act of mercy for Leonard Peltier,
now is the time to grant him clemency.
Every day is a new crime until Peltier is set free.
With a childlike grin he said, “It won’t be so.”
After the government told the people, “No
money for Heart of the Earth and the Red School House.”
He made a call to all of those, whose names were whited out.
He caught them in a lie; the money soon flowed in.
How many of those children are lawyers now like him?
Simply none better when it comes to treaty rights.
Never one to cower. Always one to fight
for the land, for the water, for sovereignty
as guaranteed by the Treaty of Fort Laramie.
It’s time this nation be allowed to heal.
Give back what was stolen, the Sacred Black Hills.
From Lac Courtes Oreilles to the Tar Sands,
all the way down to the Anishinaabe Winter Dam.
White folks screamed, “Timber niggers get off those docks.”
In the Deep North, as now in Standing Rock
with water hoses frozen to their knees.
Wanting nothing more but pure water and air to breath.
Then when the daughter of Malcolm X
was arrested once more, truth was put to test.
He fought that much harder and once again he found
when fighting for justice there is no middle ground.
Facing her accuser, evil indeed.
When the facts came out Shabazz was set free.
After all these years, you would think somethings might change
from the Pasach to where we stand today.
But like Micah, Amos, Sitting Bull,
we will keep fighting until justice rolls
down like a mighty river, until all people are free.
One thing for certain this he believed.
He was not a Saint, merely flesh and bone.
Yet, filled with the spirit, now free to roam.
He touched so many lives, so many yet conceived,
In a world where all will have dignity
There’s fire on the mountain; the trumpets now blow
The man we all love has made it back home
Words & music by Larry Long
Copyright Larry Long 2017 / BMI
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