Colors of the Wind

You think you own_ what-ev-er land_ you land on;
the earth is just a dead thing you can claim;
but I know ev-'ry rock and tree and crea-ture
has a life, has a spir-it, has a name.

You think the on-ly peo-ple who__are peo-ple
are the peo-ple who look and think like you,
but if you walk the foot-steps of a strang-er
you'll learn things_you nev-er knew__you nev-er knew.

Have you ev-er heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon 
or
asked the grin-ing bob-cat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all__the voic-es of the moun-tain? 
Can you paint with all__the col-ors of the wind?
Can you paint with all__the col-ors of the wind?

Come run the hid-den pine__trails of the for-est,
come taste the sun-sweet ber-ries of the earth,
come roll in all__the rich-es all a-round you,
and for once nev-er won-der what they-re worth.

Have you ev-er heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon 
or
let the ea-gle tell you where he's been?
Can you sing with all__the voic-es of the moun-tain? 
Can you paint with all__the col-ors of the wind?
Can you paint with all__the col-ors of the wind?

The rain-storm and the riv-er are my broth-ers;
the her-on and the ot-ter are my friends; 
and we are all__con-nect-ed to each oth-er
in a cir-cle in a hoop that nev-er__ends.

CODA
How high does the syc-a-more grow?
If you cut it down___then you'll nev-er know___
And you'll nev-er hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon,
for wheth-er we are white_or cop-per skinned,
we need to sing with all_the voic-es__of the moun-tain,
we need to paint with all__the col-ors of the wind.
You can own the earth_and still all you'll own is earth un-til
you can paint with all the col-ors of the wind.