You think I'm just an ignorant savage 
And you've been so many places I guess it must be so 
But still I can not 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 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 mountain? 
Can you paint with all the colours of the wind? 
 [bad word] the hidden pine trails of the forest [bad word] taste the sun sweet berries of the earth [bad word] roll in all the riches all around you 
And for once, never wonder what they're worth 

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 a 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 mountain 
Need to paint with all the colours of the wind 
Need to paint with all the colours of the wind 

You can own the earth and still, 
All you own is earth until 
You can paint with all the colours of the wind.