You think I'm an ignorant savage
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And you've been so many places
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I guess it must be so
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But still I cannot see
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If the savage one is me
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How can there be so much that you don't know?
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You don't know ...
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You think you own whatever land you land on
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The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim
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But I know every rock and tree and creature
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Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
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You think the only people who are people
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Are the people who look and think like you
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But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
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You'll learn things you never knew you never knew
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Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
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Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
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Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
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Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
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Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
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Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
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Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth
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Come roll in all the riches all around you
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And for once, never wonder what they're worth
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The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
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The heron and the otter are my friends
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And we are all connected to each other
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In a circle, in a hoop that never ends
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How high will the sycamore grow?
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If you cut it down, then you'll never know
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And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
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For whether we are white or copper skinned
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We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains
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We need to paint with all the colors of the wind
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You can own the Earth and still
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All you'll own is Earth until
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You can paint with all the colors of the wind
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Colours Of The Wind
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| Connie Talbot |
