| Polluted waters
|
| Achievements of our fathers
|
| Nothing but a septic stream
|
| Left to our children to delight in
|
| Who once drank
|
| From the undefiled babbling brook
|
| Now mud covered is his face
|
| Forced to extinction
|
| By so called creature of god
|
| Using its intelligence
|
| That’s turning into a foolness
|
| The waters of flowing stream
|
| Now smelling steel and concrete
|
| Awaken from the nightmare
|
| That’s slowly turning into reality
|
| The waves grow higher
|
| And the stream is getting wilder
|
| Along the river
|
| Our journey goes on
|
| The winds blew strong
|
| And the trees resounded forlorn
|
| Boat floating further on every pull
|
| Oar on and on, forevermore
|
| We’re closer than we ever thought
|
| The truth’s lying here, somewhere so deep
|
| Increasing storm before our eyes
|
| We’re about to enter in
|
| We must oar away
|
| And find the way
|
| Through the haze
|
| Get to the troutrace
|
| After all that we have done
|
| Before it’s too late
|
| To nature’s decay
|
| When the world is falling down on us
|
| We’re shutting our eyes from it all
|
| When the world is praying us
|
| We turn our backs to it all
|
| No matter how high is your mountain
|
| How shiny are your stars
|
| When they are made of plast
|
| We must oar away
|
| And find the way
|
| Through the haze
|
| Get to the troutrace
|
| After all that we have done
|
| Before it’s too late
|
| To nature’s decay
|
| And when we arrived
|
| Nothing but a peaty stream
|
| Was all we saw
|
| Left to us to drown in |