I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, of deepest blue
The clouds like smokey trains
News coming in, goes nationwide
Not a grain of truth to be heard
Lie to an ancient tribe
In their mother tongue
Wreaking havoc and wrecking lives
Like a ball and chain to the skull
Rise see the eagle fly
Spirit can't be broken
I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, of deepest blue
The clouds like smokey trains
I dream of trees and roads
I roam across the hills
The sky is big, of deepest blue
The clouds like smokey trains