When all our jungle friends sleep, we work against stream, against them, so when they wake, they're damned like the river, mother's blood line, until we have completely stripped them of their song, dance, prayer and language, then we palce it with ours, how do we say, "Oh, so sorry. Let us explain. You must know, this is the real world. It's good business, demolition, it's progress, development, my pocketbook, evolution's sake."
You see, they don't need our language to know we've sold them down the river and franchised our own souls.
Listen...
