Surrounded by an ocean
of crystal clear water.
In perpetual motion.
A liquid teeter-totter,

lies the peak of Mauna Loa.
Breathing fire and smoke.
Amongst the tree fern and the koa
I lived when she awoke.

Like a 747
becomes a funeral pyre,
she descended out of heaven
and set the skies afire.

I'd seen earthquakes in L.A.
Mother nature in the raw,
but when I met Madame Pele
I looked on her with awe.

I lived with Madame Pele.
I saw her everywhere.
I've offered her some water.
Gathered lockets of her hair.

I secreted my crops
amongst the tree fern and the koa.
Where Pele's teardrops
wash the slopes of Mauna Loa.

I respected that of hers.
She protected that of mine.
I can't speak for the others
but we got along just fine.

I never lacked a thing.
My gardens always flourished.
Hunting,
Fishing,
Diving
kept my dogs and I nourished.

We had a winning team
and lived without a care
until that perfect dream
became the perfect nightmare.

It was on us in a minute.
The unholiest of devil
with his minions riding in it
coming in at tree top level.

Painted faces glared at me.
The airwaves jammed with static.
Infra red photography
versus flimsy instamatic.

A military sortie?
Against a man like me?
A single guy pushin' forty
who bothered nobody?

They took the dream away
and replaced it with a dime
spent wishing me and Pele
could do it one more time.

Amongst the tree fern and the koa
I'd love to hide some crops,
on the slopes of Mauna Loa,
where the rainfall never stops.