歌词
[Instrumental]
[Verse 1]
In the forest where the trees grow tall,
The journey starts with a lumberjack’s call.
Axes swing and the timber falls,
Down to the ground where the future begins.
Branches trimmed, the logs are hauled,
By trucks that rumble and engines that spin.
To the mill where the transformation calls,
Through grinders and rollers, the wood meets its end.
[Chorus]
It's a journey, a process, a tale of creation,
From the forest to your hand, it’s a transformation.
Logs to pulp, pulp to sheet,
The story of paper, from the roots to the street.
Cutting, chipping, pulping, refining,
Bleaching, pressing, drying, defining.
A sheet so smooth, a canvas so blank,
The result of hard work, let's give our thanks.
[Instrumental]
[Verse 2]
At the mill, the logs are chipped away,
Into tiny pieces where they start to fray.
Into the pulper, they go to stay,
And become a slurry in a watery play.
Chemicals added to break it down,
To fibers fine, all white and brown.
Refined and cleaned, it's ready to go,
Through screens and presses, watch it flow.
[Chorus]
It's a journey, a process, a tale of creation,
From the forest to your hand, it’s a transformation.
Logs to pulp, pulp to sheet,
The story of paper, from the roots to the street.
Cutting, chipping, pulping, refining,
Bleaching, pressing, drying, defining.
A sheet so smooth, a canvas so blank,
The result of hard work, let's give our thanks.
[Instrumental]
[Bridge]
From the forest green to the mill so grand,
From the mighty oak to the paper in your hand.
It's a cycle of life, a chain unplanned,
Nature and industry, hand in hand.
For writing, for art, for knowledge to expand,
Every sheet a story, every page a stand.
[Chorus]
It's a journey, a process, a tale of creation,
From the forest to your hand, it’s a transformation.
Logs to pulp, pulp to sheet,
The story of paper, from the roots to the street.
Cutting, chipping, pulping, refining,
Bleaching, pressing, drying, defining.
A sheet so smooth, a canvas so blank,
The result of hard work, let's give our thanks.
[Outro]
So next time you write, or read, or draw,
Remember the journey, the process in awe.
From the forest floor to the paper’s lore,
A tale of transformation, forever more
