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For all our languages we cant communicate

For all our native tongues were all native here

Sons of their fathers dream the same dream

The sound of forbidden words become a scream

Voices of anger, victims of history

Plundered and set aside, grown fat on swallowed pride

With promises of paradise and gifts of beads and knives

Missionaries and pioneers are all soldiers in disguise

Saviors and conquerors they make us wait

The fishers of men they wave their truth like bait

With the touch of a strangers hand innocence turns to shame

The spirit that dwelt within it sleeps out in the rain

For all our native tongues we cant communicate

For all our native tongues were all natives here

The scars of the past are slow to disappear

The cries of the dead are always in our ears

Only the very safe can talk about wrong and right

Of those who are forced to choose some will choose to fight



Promesses de paradis terrestre,

Presents de perles et de coutreaux

Missionnaires et poinniers sont des soldats saveurs deguises

Survivants et conquerants,

Ils nous font attendre

Des charlatans ondulant

Leur verite comme un applat

Au toucher dune main atrange

Linnocence se convertit en deshonneur

Lesprit qui demeure a linterieur

Dort dans la pluie



Malgre toutes nos langues,

Nous ne pouvons communiquer

Malgre toutes nos langues natives,

Nous sommes tous natifs ici

Les cicatrices du passe sont lentes a disparaitre

Les complaintes des morts resonnent toujours

Dans notre tete le bien du mal

De ceux forces de choisir,

Quelques uns choisiront de lutter

For all our languages we cant communicate

For all our native tongues were all native here

Sons of their fathers dream the same dream

The sound of forbidden words become a scream

Voices of anger, victims of history

Plundered and set aside, grown fat on swallowed pride

With promises of paradise and gifts of beads and knives

Missionaries and pioneers are all soldiers in disguise

Saviors and conquerors they make us wait

The fishers of men they wave their truth like bait

With the touch of a strangers hand innocence turns to shame

The spirit that dwelt within it sleeps out in the rain

For all our native tongues we cant communicate

For all our native tongues were all natives here

The scars of the past are slow to disappear

The cries of the dead are always in our ears

Only the very safe can talk about wrong and right

Of those who are forced to choose some will choose to fight



Promesses de paradis terrestre,

Presents de perles et de coutreaux

Missionnaires et poinniers sont des soldats saveurs deguises

Survivants et conquerants,

Ils nous font attendre

Des charlatans ondulant

Leur verite comme un applat

Au toucher dune main atrange

Linnocence se convertit en deshonneur

Lesprit qui demeure a linterieur

Dort dans la pluie



Malgre toutes nos langues,

Nous ne pouvons communiquer

Malgre toutes nos langues natives,

Nous sommes tous natifs ici

Les cicatrices du passe sont lentes a disparaitre

Les complaintes des morts resonnent toujours

Dans notre tete le bien du mal

De ceux forces de choisir,

Quelques uns choisiront de lutter

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