Great white puffs of lumbering buffalo
Blanket the fishbowl sky, and I am tired
I sip my tea and sniff the ocean
Not but an hour from now, I will be home
Swing me low, mark me a coward
The whims of the West must die
Here is the resting ground
here is my smile, my pink little toes

Bound to your oil machines
Death to the civilized
Hoarding the land and sea
Death to the civilized
Stolen through violent means
Death when all want masquerades as need

The marbled godwit line the coast
I grasp for my straw cap
I'm lashed to my brave little raft
The waves do toss this worthy vessel
Impress on my tiny brain
This strange and dangerous beauty
I feel it's scale
I feel it's industry
Making a flea of us
And dusting us off
And talks in a hush
A little disappointed

Bound to your oil machines
Death to the civilized
Hoarding the land and sea
Death to the civilized.
Stolen through violent means
Death when all want masquerades as need