You think you own whatever

land you land on,

the earth is just a dead thing

you can claim,

but I know every rock,

and tree and creature,

has a life, has a spirit,

has a name....



You think the only people

who are people,

are the people who

look and think like you,

but if you walk the footsteps

of a stranger,

you'll learn things,

you never knew,

you never knew....



Have you ever heard the wolf,

cry to blue corn moon,

or let the eagle tell you where he's been,

can you sing with all the voices

of the mountain,

can you paint with all

the colours of the wind,

can you paint with all the colours of the wind.....



How high does the Sycamore grow,

if you cut it down then you'll never know,

and you'll never hear the wolf cry,

to the blue corn moon,

for whether we are white or copper skinned.

We need to sing with all the voices

of the mountain,

we need to paint with all

the colours of the wind,

You can own the earth

and still, all you'll own

is earth until...

You Can Paint With All The Colours Of The Wind.



ooo ooo ooo