• Do you see the black oceans,
    hear the drumming ground?
    Tis not a drill, but a quake.
    Tis not oil, but blackened paint.

    Do you feel the warmth of the rising heat,
    the melting snow beneath your feet?
    Do you notice the ever growing temperature range,
    it's just the coming of the season change.

    Do you listen to the media?
    All ears but no eyes?
    Acting as a giant sponge.
    Draining the remaining color from our skies.

    With this science, you taint the ground.
    You blast the silence with your raging sounds.

    I tried to warn you,
    but you pushed me down,
    and trampled over me as you did all of the rest.
    Now help me up so I can fix this mess.

    Now listen as I read my list,
    of things to do to fix this crumbling earth.
    Join me on my lifelong quest, to make this place of worth.

    Now friends, kiss me before I depart.
    I'll start this world anew,
    a planet in which the devil's grasp has missed