Inuits

Where does the real man dwell from In the cold mist hides a mystery, Life is balanced in a place not documented in history Where all boundaries are lost between superstitions and human splendor, Where a child’s only guidance is his gender In a land where, to their ways, nature hasn't surrendered Well according to their tradition The man is always good for hunting, Survival here is a mission, And according to evolution The first child should be male without question Where old continents meet, Where they lay their heads of gray, From so much white and black death always on display. From watching the human race suffer for so long The warm solitude of their igloos is their only happiness yearlong They laugh at everything, because from birth it is forbidden to cry To keep their sanity clear and dry And according to tradition, There is no government and no one rules the soul, In life you have to take it easy and always be in control At least according to evolution Fast living seems unforgiving It is known that they do not know wars and that they share all of their truths, That all of their halves have equality and there’s no complaints from the youths They are not amazed by wealth, their life by their own hands is given No one to incarcerate them or liberate them, only in free rein is their love driven And according to tradition, There will never be inhibition Life becomes clearer when it isn't enforced by ammunition According to the evolution To them, there is no other path but to be the best To follow the path marked on your chest To live free and not oppressed.