Chico Mendes

( Lyrics by Mike Jenkins )

He fought for the rubber tappers
Milking latex from the trees
He fought for the Indians who know the forest
Like a sailor knows the sea
He fought for animals plants and flowers
Many more than books could tell
He fought so the world won’t scorch
With the living fires of hell

He was riddled with forty bullets
The ranchers were to blame
There were holes for musical notes
The rainbow was broken and lame
The only time flowers should be taken
The only time the trees cut down
Was for the funeral of Chico Mendes
Where crying was the only sound

And the time of festival’s over
And the burning season begins
And the ranchers think of cattle
And the bankers pour their gins
But I think of Chico Mendes
May his roots grow under us all
May the charcoal of greed crumble
And the rain forests never fall