This Place - Joni Mitchell

Sparkle on the ocean

Eagle at the top of a tree

Those crazy crows 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 is 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 for long

They’re gonna tear 'em down

And sell them to California

Here come 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 wide wide world around

Black bear in the orchard

At night he’s in my garbage cans

He’s getting so bold but no one wants to shoot him

He’s got a right to roam this land

I feel like Geronimo

I used to be 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