Mudslide
Before the pioneers came all the way out here
To set up camp to farm, to hunt and mine
By the riverbanks others joined their ranks
And worked the land and forests, rain or shine
That's how things once were there among the Douglas Fir
That blanketed the region, far and wide
It's the story of a mountainside
Soon the situation changed, lots of lumber mills in range
And logging was the way men made their way
Such demand for wood, soon barely a tree stood
When rain fell down from skies of grey
Turns out the trees they made the hill, loose mud just won't stay still
And pretty soon it all began to slide
It's the story of a mountainside
Fertile hilltops turned to stone but the secondgrowth had grown
Decades passed and corporations came
Some people tried to tell this would not end well
But when profit rules it's always the same
There's no valley that's too deep, there's no hill that is too steep
No regulator's pockets can't be plied
It's the story of a mountainside
Once the hill was cut and flayed there were still profits to be made
By selling land to folks to live out in the country
With the river still so pretty and there just north of the city
Go raise your kids in rural harmony
It was the last place they would go, the last home they'd ever know
When the hill collapsed and half the village died
It's the story of a mountainside