Fond Farewell
Words and music by Tom May, copyright July 2016
©Blue Vignette Music, ASCAP

1. When you looked up above, you saw the canopy high
the forests of Eden could never be cleared
too many trees there to count, giving us air that we breathe
who would ever have thought, they would almost disappear

massive Doug Fir, in a forest so deep
silent as time before those great giants fell
now the big ones are gone, we chopped them all down
without even so much, as a fond farewell

2. When you looked down below, to the river so clean
millions of salmon were making their way
too many to count, a marvel to see
native people revered them, and to them they did pray

Sockeye and King, Silver and Chum
no one went ever went hungry as the bounty was shared
then the big dams were built, fish habitat razed
now those great fish are making, their own fond farewell

bridge
So I sing this ballad refrain
for the wonders that are gone and the ones that remain
will our testament be, just a hot silent dawn
when the gifts we've been given are gone

3. You looked up at the sky
at the sound of their wings
passenger pigeons all across this wild land
too many to count, the sight would make your heart sing
how they all disappeared I cannot understand

I have heard of those days, when their song filled the sky
as sweet as a chorus from a thousand small bells
now they are gone, we crowded them out
without even the grace, of a fond farewell

4. When you looked to the west, across the great plains
millions of bison grazed on the short grass
a miracle of life, where it seldom does rain
giving food, heat and shelter in this landscape so vast

Blackfoot and Sioux, Comanche and Crow
would track the great herds before the Iron Horse came
then we shot them for sport, for their tongues and their hides
leaving great piles of bones, and a legacy of pain

repeat bridge

5. Most men are ruthless, will take what they want
ignoring the cost to those left behind
as we breed without limit, yet demand ever more
the very fabric of life, we now undermine

But amidst all of this grandeur, even with all of our luck
in this lottery of chance, even the deepest of wells
must someday run dry, when we use it all up
until all that remains, is our own fond farewell

But amidst all of this grandeur, even with all of our luck
in this lottery of chance, even the deepest of wells
must someday run dry, when we use it all up