colours of the wind
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 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 grins? Can you sing with all the voices
of the mountains? Can you paint with all the colours of the wind? Can you
paint with all the colours 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 herron and
the otter are my friends. And we are all connected to each other in a circle
in a loop that never ends.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue-corn moon? Or
let the eagle tell you where he's been? Can you sing with all the voices
of the mountains? 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 cit it down, then
you'll never know. And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue-corn
moon. Or whether we are white or copper-skinned. If we could sing with
all the voices of the mountains, to paint with all the colours of the wind.
You can own the earth and still all you own is earth until, you can paint
with all the colours of the wind.
