Millions of years of tremours and shaking, made the peak rise higher and higher.
Oh seedling, growing before our eyes, covering mountain sides with green cotton puffs.
Up from the branches we watch as our home prepares for its destruction.
Neither of us can sing over the rumble of the mountain.
Too late people realize the mountain's eruption.
Ashes and lava prove its anger.
Into the gray sky we flee, looking back at our home.
Never again will it be the same as before.
Tall skyscrapers reach my sky.
As the countryside wind blows through my rice fields,
Indigo sky reflects of my waves.
Water once was here, in my dried out gorge.
An amazing sunset awaits for you on my mountain peaks.
Never jump off my dangerous, deadly cliffs.