Wind in my head, wide open heart
I stumble on ancient paths
Tracing circles in a random way
There is method to the prey
Beside a river, on an empty beach
Any place is within reach
Hold this moment, hold it clear
Can you tell what happened here
I see the old ones
I see them proud
I feel their love still in this ground
Foot prints beneath the city streets
I hear them closing in my sleep
Walking forward with the past
All the songs are in the stars
A forest temple, a mirrored lake
In open desert I kneel and pray
We were bequeathed a sacred land
But there are few who understand
Keep it decent keep it whole
Don't make a fist of freedom's home
I see the old ones
I see them proud
I feel their love still in this ground
Irritja tjutaya kulinytja
Palya nyinapayi
Ngurraya palyangku kanylipayi
Yuru Kapi ila
Ngurra ngururrpa tarra
Alintjarra, Kakararra, Ulpurarra, Wilurarra
Kulinytjatjarra nyinapayi
Alatjilaka nyinima kulinytjatjarra
‘Old people from the past used to always listen and live by their law
They looked after all the country. Near the sea or even in the centre, north, east, south and west
They always were good listeners and respectful
We should always be like that
Listen and be respectful.‘
Climatic change
Slivers of shattered whitened glacial-ice
Baked salted clay pans
Human footprints
Fading into the dark matter
Of a universe beyond the heavens of cosmic chaos
And human comprehension
The evolving present
Is only the future path to the distant pasts
Standing on the precipice of ideas
Above the chasms of human consciousness
False prophets preach from pulpits in the temples of mammon
The greed creed
Consumes this earth planet
Respect the ancientness of wisdom
Respect the old peoples' guardianship of paradise!!
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
