in Navajo land, the wind blows through red canyons

And the coyote sings lonely songs during the starry night

in Navajo land, people work the sheep and cattle and horse

while their children and dogs run free

In navajo land, corporate trucks sit unattended behind barbed wire

And signs read “toxic, uranium mine, keep out”, “Ba’ha’dzid”

In navajo land, black masks coat peoples’ lungs

So elderly people sit and cough

In navajo land, people remember work in the mines, no masks, no gloves, no light

and journalists flip their notebooks and drive away

In navajo land, abandoned mines and tailings leak uranium into the land

And the water in the river is toxic, and the air in the sky is toxic, and the dirt in the ground is toxic

In navajo land, the wind blows through red canyons

carrying the forgotten sounds of a pick, chipping away at hard rock

And the coyote sings lonely songs during the starry night,

the voices of those with black lungs echoing in his song