Poor little soul
A rainforest mite
They chopped off his fingers
And that was in spite
Of him remonstrating
And of course living there
Corporate Palm oil
Its now everywhere
Pull down the forests
Go slash and burn
Increase the methane
And the concern
Get rid of the indigenous
Get rid of us too
Chop down the trees
Let Palm oil come through
I have lost my fingers
And my dear mama
I am an orphan now
When once I was a star
In our little family
My mum called me star
But now without fingers
My name should be scar
How Will I will cope
If my saviours are those
Corporate bandits
Next its my toes
Is that what they will do
Is that now to be
All that they care about
When. I know its not me
They broke up my family
And many more
The elephants the tapirs
For us its a war
Burned out and running
Thats what we do
When the palm oil brigade
Come oh yes its all true
A baby of the forest
An orangutan
My fingers are gone
Chopped off by some man
Born of a mother as i was
But he
Had the right to do what he did
Sadly to me