The Death of Cynthia

Cynthia,
you're back home now.
You'll do as I command.
Recognize your family
as you'll not leave here again.


You bring shame
to your father
you'll stay in this cold room.
The tribal call,
to keen at night,
just foretells your doom.


You were proud
with that lost tribe
You rose to come a queen.
But here now,
in the civil world,
you're not fit to be seen.


The Devil's spawn
you've carried back
is never going to live.
For a half-breed,
mongrel child,
there's nothing here to give.


Cynthia,
you're back home now.
You'll do as I command.
You're a disgrace
to every white man,
but you'll live here ... if you can.