A Song to Learn we Frequently Sing at Camps

Chorus:
I'm a little Indian that loves fry bread
Early in the morning and when I go to bed
Some folks say I'm crazy in the head cause
I'm a little Indian that loves fry bread.

First Verse
Making fry bread is not so very hard
You need a frying pan & lots of hot lard
You take a little flour & a little this and that
Mix it all together and you throw it in the fat.
(Chorus)

Second Verse
Mama likes her fry bread nice & brown
Papa likes his sorta thick & round
Sissy likes hers pulled, oh so thin
But me, I don't care I just dig right in.
(Chorus)

Third Verse
Some folks say I've put on a pound or two 
My jeans don't fit the way they used to
But I don't care let the people talk
If I don't get my fry bread, then you'll hear me squawk
(Chorus)

Fourth Verse
Now, in the last days when supplies run short
I may have to turn to a last resort.
You see this guitar in my hand?
I may have to trade it for a frying pan.
(Chorus)