Oh, the rivers hurt
The Earth burns
And the dust blows hot o'er her land

See the cuts on her face
In the barren waste
Where the grass once grew in her lap

The tree lies dead
Never to grow again
No seed to take its place

Trampled down by the myth
That the cowboys win
No matter the degree of disgrace

Oh, its best that we get the cows off the land
Off Mother Nature's face
Tell me please that you do understand
Get the cows off our Mother's face

The flowers grow
On the hillside no more
Rocks and weeds take their place

And the topsoil rolls
To the streams that flow
Only when it rains

Nowhere to build her nest
The bluebird stays away
She has no place to play

The cows have left their brand
All over our land
And Mother Nature's face

Oh, its best that we get the cows off the land
Off Mother Nature's face
Tell me please that you do understand
Get the cows off our Mother's face

Tell me please that you do understand
Get the cows off our Mother's face