Monday, September 29, 2008

This Place



This Place

Sparkle on the ocean
Eagle at the top of a tree,
Those crazy crows are always
making a commotion,
this land is home to me.

I was talking to my neighbor.
He said, "When I get to Heaven,
if it's not like this,
I'll just hop a cloud
and I'm coming right back down here,
back to this heavenly bliss."

You see those lovely hills--
they won't be there long.
They're gonna tear 'em down
and sell them to California.
Here comes the toxic spills,
miners poking all around.
When this place looks like a moonscape,
don't say I didn't warn ya...

Money, money, money...
money makes the trees come down.
It makes mountains into molehills;
big money kicks the whole wide world around.

Black bear in the orchard,
at night he's in my garbage cans,
he's getting so bold
no one wants to shoot him.
He's got a right to roam this land.

I feel like Geronimo.
I used to as trusting as Cochise,
but the white eyes lies--
he's out of whack with nature,
and look how far his weapons reach!

Spirit of the water,
give us all the courage
and the grace,
to make genius of this tragedy
unfolding--
the genius to save this place.

Joni Mitchell

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