The systems of life hum accordingly
Every day, every year, every century.
But everywhere humans go things get worse and worse;
Can't you tell through the smoke in the dirty city?

The jungle was once a tranquil hideaway
For the kind of trees and the mountains themselves.
But man those things sell a million dollars a pound,
Cut them up, dry them out, good display for the shelves.
Why can't we just leave them alone?

Who is the animal?
Who is that dangerous beast?
Why were the other ones made?
I know it wasn't just for our feast.

And now they're down to 250 lone souls,
They're a breed of a losing generation, it seems.
The killers are ourselves so you know who to blame,
It was man with his plan and his frightening greed.
I don't think we'll ever leave them alone.