Out in the East the jungle listens
The tigress, plaintive, growls in pain,
The great trees hear her breathing, shaking
Inside her still, the new lives wait,
These cubs could be the last ones ever
To freely live and roam and mate.
Our grandchild knows the tiger never
Or will the dreamer wake?
Far in the North the white bear snuffles
Down in her lair the gleaming snow
She waits for all the life she's making
Outside the crashing glaciers grow.
These cubs could be the last cubs ever
To freely live and roam and mate.
Our grandchild knows the white bear never
Or will the dreamer wake?
