The pale pastels of the lake
Freshened breath with no mistake
On the horizon a rusted thorn
On the Northwest tip is worn
My home state moves
No chance to hesitate
Offering big tax breaks
For the industrial rake
Tearing up the land
I have yet to ever understand
How we can destroy such beauty
Beauty of our land
The water and the sand
Taken for granted our homeland
I will look out to the lake and wonder
If there is a beauty of fresh water
Upon this earth so mild
It is both mother and child
We must honor the world so
Unless mistakenly
We let it go