Natives - Live

For all of our languages we can't communicate
 For all of our native tongues we're all natives here
 Sons of their fathers' dream the same dream
 The sound of forbidden words becomes a scream
 Voices in anger, victims of history
 Plundered and set aside, grow fat on swallowed pride
 With promises of paradise and gifts of beads and knives
 Missionaries and pioneers are soldiers in disguise
 Saviours and Conquerers, they make us wait
 Like fishers of men they wave their truth like bait
 But with the touch of a stranger's hand innocence turns to shame
 The spirit that dwelt within now sleeps out in the rain
 For all of our languages we can't communicate,
 For all of our native tongues, we're all natives here
 The scars of the past are slow to disappear
 The cries of the dead are always in our ears
 And only the very safe can talk about wrong and right
 Of those who are forced to choose, some will choose to fight