Trains that carry coal and oil,
Cross our land and poison soil.
Split our towns and scare our herds,
(Exporting fuel is too absurd.)
So clear the tracks and let them be,
Let the buffalo roam free.
We sprinkle dust and twirl three times;
Let all the trains become benign.
No more coal and no more oil
Will journey to a foreign soil.
So mote it be.
