Lyrics

Now that your big eyes are finally open Now that you're wondering, "How must they feel?" Meaning them that you've chased across Canada's movie screens Now that you're wondering, "How can it be real?" That the ones you've called colorful, noble, and proud in your school propaganda They starve in their splendor You asked for our comment, I simply will render My country 'tis of thy people, you're dying Now that the longhouses breed superstition You force us to send our children away To your schools where they're taught to despise their traditions Forbid them their languages, then further say that Canada's history really began When explorers set sail out of Europe And stress 
that the nations of leeches who conquered these lands Were the biggest, and bravest, and boldest, and best And yet where in your history books is the tale Of the genocide basic to this country's birth? Of the preachers who lied? And the people who died? How a nation of patriots returned to their earth? Where does it tell of the starvation hell? As the children were herded, and raped and converted? And how do we rescue the missing and murdered? My country 'tis of thy people, you're dying A few of the conquered have somehow survived Their blood runs the redder, though genes have been paled From Arctic Inuvik to Niagara Falls The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale And from Vancouver Island to the Labrador Sea The white nations fattened while others grew lean Oh, the tricked and evicted, they know what I mean My country 'tis of thy people, you're The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens Our life blood is shut up in your papers and banks And now here you come, bill of sale in your hand And surprise in your eyes, that we're lacking in thanks For the blessings of civilization you brought us The lessons you've taught us, the ruin you've wrought us Oh see what our trust in O Canada got us My country 'tis of thy people, you're dying Now that the pride of the sires needs charity Now that we're harmless and safe behind laws Now that my life's to be known as your heritage Now that even the graves have been robbed Now that our own chosen way is your novelty Hands on our hearts, 
we salute you your victory Choke on your true white and scarlet hypocrisy Pity your blindness, oh why can't you see How the eagles of war whose wings lend you glory Are never no more than buzzards and crows Pushed some wrens from their nest Stole their eggs, changed their story The mockingbird sings it, it's all that she knows "Aw, what could I do?" say the privileged few With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye Can't you see that their poverty's profiting you? My country 'tis of thy people, you're dying