I try not to remember because it hurts to know;
The lives we've built have no connection to what's held before us.
Sitting in our bricks and mortar admiring how well we've imagined success.
Do you remember the land?
Do you remember how we cared?
Do you remember the dreams we once shared?
We'd dream of happiness throughout the world,
of singing in the sun and laughing in the rain,
of dancing through fields with the ones that meant most.
Doing all that we could,
to stand up for what's good.
Do you remember the land?
Do you remember how we cared?
Do you remember the dreams we once shared?
Now we dream of money to impress,
of violence to end fighting,
somebody to save the generation and clear up our mess.
Hurting the vulnerable, to help those with the most.
Do you remember the land?
Do you remember how we cared?
Do you remember the dreams we once shared?
So I'll sit on this train through the rolling hills,
quietly pondering our existence.
Whilst you think of how to ensure your faltering fantasies,
and offer our Earth no assistance.
remember land politics ideals native american culture generation failure depression hurts care dreams