| How can you buy or sell the sky
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| Or the warmth of the land it’s strange to us We don’t own the freshness of the air
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| Or the sparkle of the water
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| How can you buy them from us The white man doesn’t understand our ways
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| For he’s a stranger who comes in the night
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| And takes from the land just what he needs
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| Oh yeah
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| He treats his brothers like his enemies
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| When it’s completed he moves on He leaves his father’s grave and his birthright
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| His birthright is forgotten
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| The air is precious to the red man
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| For all things share the same breath
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| The white man won’t notice the air he breathes
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| Like a man dying for many days
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| All right now
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| The whites must treat the beasts of his land
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| As his brothers not his enemies
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| Tell me what is man without the beasts
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| I’ll bet he will die of loneliness
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| One thing we know that the white man will
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| We know our god is the same god
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| You may think you wish to own him
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| Own him as you wish to own our land
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| But he is the body of man
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| And the earth is precious to him
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| Continue to contaminate your bed
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| And you will suffocate in your waste |