Spirit from Tightrope Walking by Russell Hibbs & Andy Copeman

My name is like the wind,
i have walked the trackless wood.
From the rocky crest on high,
to where the meddow tastes so good.
Who will lead the people home,
through the darkness of this empty night we face,
who will lead the people home?.

No man can buy the earth,
n'ore is it ours to sell.
Each creature sings it's song,
we have learned to listen well.
But if the living waters die,
were gonna feel the pain,
great loneliness of heart,
if the living waters die.

My fathers walked this land,
keep it sacred as it is.
Down to our children's hands,
the memories that we give.
The deer and eagle gone,
perhaps i'm a savage,
but i don't understand.
The deer and eagle gone.

Feather, fur, skin, scale, rock, bark, blood, sap, bone.
All that is seen, and unseen.
Above below, betwixt, between.
The centre of all centres.
The breath of all breaths,
the beating heart in all that beats,
awake or asleep.
Ancient grandmothers, grandfathers,
children of the future,
in all space, time.
Turning reason back to rhyme.

And as your cities grow,
how will you listen then?
To the sound of the pine trees blow,
and the stories that they tell.
When these precious things are gone,
the end of living it's survival now i find.
When these precious things are gone, all gone.

• Ayurveda
• Spoken Word
• acoustic
• bardic
• devotional
• devotional.
• shamanic
• transcendental
• world
• Byron Bay