One can only count on themselves
I had a friend who told me
We were hurting our mother
I soon realized that a mother never fails you
It just loses control of you
Now I am looking for my brother
In a burning ****** forest
The fiery leaves have turned cold ash
They would have been golden and red
Yellow and black perfect for the slashing
I cannot believe there was an early funeral for the forest
And we burned our friend to a crisp
Laying our possibilities to waste
By searching for tastier plausible solutions
To run our automobiles
And the high flying businessman
Make the most out of greed
As we lose hope and face despair
The corporation aren't playing it fair
This is no longer a children's game
People have given up on their children's children
Streams of contamination are all we have in this prairie