Not long ago my Grandpa roamed
The wild land and seas of foam,
‘Til one place claimed him as its own,
Gave fir and cedar to build a home.
And then he built a trolling boat:
For fifty years he stayed afloat
On salmon, deer, spuds and oats –
Sharing milk and honey with the nearby folks.
BRIDGE 1: Hey Grandpa, if you’re trolling by
On some blue ocean in the sky,
Looking down, would you wonder why__
We cut and run from paradise?
CHORUS: Cut ‘n run, cut n’ run,
Look at what we’ve gone and done;
Cut’n run, cut ‘n run,
Taking all and leaving none.
Now the earth’s a finite space,
Filling up with the human race;
Elbows in each other’s face,
No sense of time, no sense of place.
We see abundance yield to greed,
But still we take with greater speed;
The frenzy grows as we proceed,
Our scripture is the balance sheet.
BRIDGE 1 & CHORUS:
Horizons fade as years go by,
Most neighbours we can’t recognize;
Working harder ’til we die,
We’ll leave nothin’ but alibis.
BRIDGE 2: And when our kids are looking back,
Clutching at old photographs,
Will they feel well on down the track,
On a one way ticket, and fade to black?
CHORUS:
BRIDGE 3: And when our kids are grown and looking back,
At the strangers in old photographs,
Will they feel well on down the track,
On a one way ticket, and fade to black?
CHORUS, to FINALE: