Seven Little Indians Lyrics by John Hiatt

Seven Little Indians Lyrics

    There were seven little indians
    Living in a brick house on
    Central avenue
    Gathered 'round their daddy
    Tellin' stories in the living room
    From a slightly unrealistic point of view
    Momma was off yonder in the kitchen somewhere
    Boiling up some hot water for them to all get up to their necks in
    The seven little indians new
    If the rest of the tribe ever scrutinized their household
    Somehow it would not pass inspection
    The big chief railed on
    And spun his tales of brave conquest
    About the moving of his little band
    Up to alaska
    Where the caribou run free
    See he had been there putting in telephone lines
    For the army during world war ii
    Even brought back a picture of a frozen mastodon
    For the little indians to see
    And some mukluks and some sealskin gloves
    And a coat with beads around the collar
    His wife kept them in the mothballs
    Underneath the hudson bays
    And every once and a while he'd get all wound up
    With one of his stories, he'd put them all on
    And dance around in that blue tv light
    Like it was some campfire blazing away
    Well he stamped and he hollered
    But he could not stay warm in that living room
    And even the seven little indians could feel the chill
    And although everything always worked
    Out for the better in all of his stories
    In that old brick house it always felt like
    Something was movin' in for the kill
    Blazing like a trail
    Shot through the eyes of the seven little indians
    Blazing like the sheets of light dancing up in the sky
    Up above anchorage
    Blazing like a star shot down to the ground
    Back home again in indiana
    Now it finally got so quiet you could hear a pin drop
    They started dropping like flies
    The oldest little indian got sick and vanished
    The big chief went two years later
    The mother raised the six little indians up
    The best she could
    To be housewives, musicians, and insurance salesmen
    But they all shared this common denominator
    You see, all the characters in the big chief's stories
    Were named after the seven little indians
    And like i said, in his stories everything
    Always worked out for the better
    And now as i'm telling this stuff to my own kids
    Dancing around in that blue tv light
    Well, i wish i had those mukluks, those sealskin gloves
    And that coat with beads around the collar

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