See the land, once proud and free,
Raging rivers of liquid gold,
Virgin forest and grassy vale
Once the maple, birch and pine
Herds of buffalo, galore,
Snow goose, peaceful in its flight --
Loons and tern and snowy owl --
For once our land was full of song
For music now, the stereo's bass
Screeching brakes and blaring horn,
Our future, yes, I see it well --
So stop the plants that pollute the air,
For care we must, to save this land, Diana Glen 1981 ©
Stretched between two bounding sea;
Majestic mountain, rolling hill,
Fertile land for man to till;
Crystal water, azure sky,
Valley deep and redwood high;
Wildlife, o'er this land did run --
So, tell me man, what have you done?
Such a glory to behold,
Now spew instead man's foul debris --
An open sewer flowing sluggishly;
Tranquil lake, unspoiled, sublime,
Now polluted by a greenish slime --
A cesspool, a sewer, a septic tank --
Whose the one we've got to thank?
Have now become our garbage pail;
On rushing river and stormy sea
There floats a film of oil debris.
Our friends, the birds and fish no more
Can come, with safety, to our shore,
For there a death in oily grime --
Tell me what has been their crime?
Were standing proudly in a line,
But some of them can n'er be found
Now that man has cut them down,
For now the vista of our land
Is sentinel smoke stacks, hand in hand,
Belching gases to the sky --
Can anyone tell me why?
Deer and moose and so much more;
Wealth of nature's teeming wild --
Slayed, destroyed or just defiled.
Bleached bones lying in the sun
Of beaver and caribou, everyone;
Pilchard and lemming and elephant seal --
Tell me, man, can this be real?
Tell me what will be her plight
With bulrushes gone from marsh reclaimed,
What home for this wild goose can be named?
Whales to our shore no more to come --
No sanctuary, our land, our great kingdom.
Otters no more can be seen --
Tell me man, what does this mean?
Have we destroyed our feathered fowl?
Wolves and fox and grizzly bear --
Have we disturbed their cosy lair?
Musk-ox and elk and weasel sly,
Wildcat and lynxs have said goodbye,
As asphalt covers the land that was theirs --
Tell me, won't somebody ever care?
Of twittering birds in the early dawn,
The crooning wind, the whispering trees,
The laughing brooks, the humming bees,
The howling wolf, the braying hound
Were part of all of nature's sound,
But now as progress has its way --
What can we do to save the day?
Intrudes upon our private place;
Blaring radio, sonic boom,
Thundering rockets to the moon;
The tranquil forest, once serene,
Reverberates with tortured scream
Of whining saw and thudding axe --
How could we be so very lax?
People cursing in the morn,
The screaming siren rents the air,
Clamouring children, a mom's despair;
Production machinery drums its' tatoo,
A resounding roar for me and you;
Grinding wheels and gnashing gears --
How is it that nobody hears?
Defaced, despoiled, spewed straight from hell.
The dying lakes, future decrees,
Will choke upon our own debris.
Once sparkling water, so good to drink,
Now diluted waste, so stop and think --
Is this really progress, my deluded friends --
When does all this carnage end?
The cars, the planes, we must take care;
Recycle all the things we can --
Conserve, preserve this wonderland.
Bring back the music to our land'
Provide a home for our friends of man,
Clean up the rivers and our grassland too --
You see, my man, it's up to you!
To make each person understand --
What man has done -- that man will do,
So change we must before we're through
And realize what we have lost --
What all this progress, it has cost --
For when the land is raped and bare,
Tell me, man, who'll be here to care?
