Colors Of The Wind

You think I'm an ignorant savage
You've been so many places, I guess it must be so
Still I cannot see if the savage one is me
How can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know.

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 all 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 mountains
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Yeah.

Come, run the hidden pine trails of the forest
And come, taste the sun, sweet berries of the earth
Come, roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what they're worth, no.

The rainstorm 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 mountains
We need to paint with all the colors of the wind.

You can own the earth and still
All you'll own is earth until
You can paint with all the colors
All the colors of the wind, oh yeah.