-- (Qe'van - 2000)
-- Original: "The Colors Of The Wind" (from Pocahontas)
You think you own whatever air you breathe in
Pollution is unknown to your name
But I know every rock and tree and creature
Everything that needs air, it screams in pain
You think that it ain't noticed by other people
Other people who look and think like you.
But the people walking footsteps there behind you
They are gagging, they are choking on your pew
Have you ever heard your dog howl to the blue corn moon
Or asked your grinning housecat why he grinned?
Can you sing with other voices than your butt cheeks?
Can you please cut out the breaking of the wind?
Can you please cut out the breaking of the wind?
We used to smell the pine-smell of the forest.
We used to smell the sweetness of the earth.
But now you're polluting all the air around you
With the smell of every meal you've had since birth.
The rainstorm and the river are our brothers.
The heron and the otter are our friends.
But they, like us, are trying to recover
From the stinky, smelly poot that's from your end.
How high will the sycamore grow?
Well, with you around we'll never know....
And we'll forever hear your dog cry to the blue corn moon.
He's sounding like he's tortured and he's skinned
While you blast your stench-cloud westward to the mountains
While you celebrate the breaking of the wind.
We could own the Earth, but hell,
We could touch and hear, not smell..
Until you stop the breaking of the wind.
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