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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 mountain
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
How high does a 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 mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still,
All you own is earth until
You can paint with all the colors of the wind.
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