When the lakes have dried and leaves have rot
As we choke upon the air we breathe
In anguished cries, shall we ask "Where have we got?"
"Is this really how man will leave?"

As the waters rise and drown out our screams
When acid falls from clouds above
With swollen fish floating down the streams
At what point will we say enough?

As the animals die from poisoned bile
From the ground in which they fed
We shrug and scoff, "That won't happen for awhile"
Nestled comfortably in our beds

When the world is grey and full of dust
When the last living things are us
From the gutters, disease approaches
As we spread across the world like roaches.