You think I'm an ignorant savage
And you've been so many places
I guess it must be so
But still I cannot see
If the savage one is me
Now can there be so much that you don't
know?
You don't know ...
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 the
blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he
grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the
mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the
wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the
wind?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the
forest
Come taste the sun sweet berries of the
Earth
Come roll in all the riches all around
you
And for once, never wonder what they're
worth
The rainstorm and the river are my
brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends
How high will 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 mountains
We need to paint with all the colors of
the wind
You can own the Earth and still
All you'll own is Earth until
You can paint with all the colors of the
wind
Stephen Schwartz
|