[Verse 1]
An eagle's nest on the head of an old redwood on one of the precipice-footed ridges above Ventana Creek
That jagged country which nothing but a fallen meteor will ever plow
No horseman will ever ride there, and no hunter would cross this ridge but the winged ones
No one will steal the eggs from this fortress
The she-eagle is old, her mate was shot long ago, she has now mated with a son of hers
When lightning blasted her nest, she built it again on the same tree, in the splinters of the thunder bolt
In a broken shack, an old man takes his time about dying
And just at the back, a wild flowerbed that he’ll lie in
In dawn's new light, a man might venture
A horse drawn stage from Monterey

[Verse 2]
The she-eagle is older than I, she was here when the fires of eighty-five raged on these ridges
She was lately fledged and dared not hunt ahead of them, but ate scorched meat
The world has changed in her time; humanity has multiplied, but not here
Men's hopes and thoughts and customs have changed, their powers are enlarged, their powers and their follies have become fantastic
The eagle’s plight, we know that nature's balance is undone
Though it's the birthright of man to unify and live his life as one
A whisper of the word will let you soar with your soul