A swollow died ,
but as it did it began to fly
for a thousand wings now lay upon its breast .
And upon that breast lay   It’s  head ,
and upon that head ,
a golden crown.,

And upon that crown of burning fire ,
Plumes of smoke were lifted higher .

And then from. that shrill from that birds beak ,
came unspeakable anguish that languished deep .
For death was sprinkled everywhere.
In falling ashes that lit up the sky ,
came winds as fierce as the swallows eye ,
More deadly were the winds that blew ,
that fanned the flames from that swallows crown .

And so life can never be the same ,
as what man uttered to clear his name .
Of all his fossil fuels he lights that burn carbon
into this burning night .
With all the coals that forever burn
Poisious gas that choke and wheeze ,
that brings the child upon her knees ..

A swollow dies his wings are singed ,
It still sings a song no one can sing .
But if they could what would we say ?
for another Forest has. Been burnt today .