Tim Staffell The Land
The human race has run so far
We mine the oceans and touch the stars
It don't matter where we are
We will always need this land
Under white Sahara skies
Where the wheeling vulture flies
Futile farmer lives or dies
Depending on the land, he's living off the land
Travellers on the open road
Well, they raise their kids and they rack their load
Driven on ‘cause they've No Fixed Abode
Their home is on the land
Hide your heads you mighty powers
Livin' in your mirrored towers
Pilin' profits by the hour while poisoning the land
How can they love the land?
Reflecting blue in ocean eyes
Sailors struggle to disguise
The ties that tug them, swirling from the sea
Drawn by distant Neptune's plans
The thought of terra firma fans
Flames that blaze and burn upon the quay
Down in the valley and across the plain
Under the mountain's dark domain
Locked in one eternal chain
The spirit of the land
The seeds are sown and then they grow
The cornucopia overflows
We feel the seasons come and go
Created in the land, the soul is in the land
Unbelieving to the end
The silver-suited comprehend
Descending circles blowin' ‘cross the sky
Slowly dawning in the void
The holy home that's near destroyed
Fragile like a lover's last goodbye
Out in the darkest depths of space
Beauty calls the human race
But nightmares come to take their place
Descending on the land
And when at last it's far too late
The last seed won't germinate
Then all things must terminate
We'll no longer have the land
No longer have the land
