We lay in shackles
While the wood crackles
From the fire that consumes
And engrosses the world with fumes
Of desperation, and pity
A self-destructive species that thinks it’s witty
We look upon the stars
As if the world was a buried jar
With the slippery glass there’s no way out
Just an overwhelming drought
Billy would say we didn’t start it
A common answer that appears to be legit
But isn’t it our duty?
To protect this innocent raw beauty
To uphold the ideals we see fit
Or has the human race quit