colors of the wind..

after spending a full midnight surfing and reading my friends' blogs..

i found one topic that actually i love to sing in but am to lazy to talk about it..

it's about the earth..

the really sound of this earth..
the color of this world really is..


this song actually told us about what our earth really contains is..

how the forest, how the rocks, the trees, the fruits it produces..
well...
this old song, a soundtrack of Pocahontas...

it also told us to love our nature..
man an old song but suite with today's earth condition..

we'll never know how tall a sycamore (kind of tree) will be, because we always cut it down..

we never heard a wolf cry to the blue corn moon,, coz we're already burn its echo..

if we really maintain and love and take a very good care of this earth, the song said that we'll able to paint with the color of the wind..

imagine how fresh it will be??
don't we missing a fresh air we used to breathe every dawn before morning coming?
well...
i do...i do miss it...

COLORS OF THE WIND

You think I'm just an ignorant savage
And you've been so many places; I guess it must be so
But still I cannot 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 colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come 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 loop that never ends

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you were he’s been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

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
We need to paint with all the colors of the wind

You can own the earth and still
All you'll own is earth until
You can paint with all the colors of the wind