If you cut it down, then you'll never know. And you'll never hear the lobo cry to the blue milho moon. For whether we are white or copper skinned, We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain. We need to paint with all the as cores of the wind. You can own the earth, and still, all you'll own is earth until You can paint with all the as cores of..... The wind.
I did this song for solo ensamble. I have it memorized.
