Ode to the Last Vast Wetlands

We teach our children to love Jesus
and to believe in Santa Claus
Just to mess with all their little heads
And easter bunnies bearing chocolate eggs
on the day he died and then was resurrected

We teach our children that the sun rises
When in fact it's just the earth that is turning
and when it sets, it really doesn't
But, we don't let on that sunsets aren't real

There are no Appaloosas up in Whitehorse
Just what is left of precious metal - gold
and all the souls of dead bear that I murdered
to keep a rich girl warm when it gets cold

We teach our parents that they will be rewarded
Someday, if they a-leave-a us alone
But, there always has to be that one girl
who thinks she's rich enough for baby's bone

So there you have it - something is in learning
That some of us will never figure out
Because it takes a brain to stop some God from killing
And an oil well can only provide drought