The air we breathe
Are becoming stale
Our gentle rivers
Are angry murky waters
Progress is not bad
And we have gone far
But our blue seas
Are turning black
The waste we scatter to the winds
Let it not reach heaven
So when our time comes to pass
We can still taste a breath of fresh air in Heaven
For the newborns of today
Will there be pure air for them to inhale
And sturdy trees to climb
And pristine rivers to swim
Shall we start to lament
The coming death of sturdy trees
Where wandering birds perch and rest
Felled to satisfy human wants
In Mother Earth are inherent gifts
Let us treasure and nurture them
If the Good Lord takes them back
We will be gone with them
I still wish to walk my last journey
Embraced by the rain
With my guitar
To sing and frolic in the clouds
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