COLORS 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 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 bob cat why he grinned?

Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain?

Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest

Come taste the sunsweet berries of the earth

Come roll in all the riches all around you

And for once never wonder what they´re worth

The rain storm and the river are my brothers

The heron and the otter are my friends

And we are all connected to each other

In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

How high does the 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.

You can own the earth and still

All you own is earth until

You can paint with all the colors of the wind.