Oh, how we strut about the world
We, the civilized population
Unsatisfied until we've unfurled
Blankets of our cultivation

How proud we are of the machines
That gauge and plunder the earths crust
To farm by artificial means
Deemed by the "uncivilized" as unjust

The "uncivilized", those wayward tribes
That naively worship this blue globe
Need alcohol and such like prescribed
To adjust malfunctioning temporal lobes

Can they not observe our contentment
And our superior living standard
They squat and rant with some resentment
We are progressive, they have meandered

I wonder when those of tribal birth
Will mature and see we've got it right
And that their unkempt patch of earth
Will make a fine farm or building site

Or better still, once they're packing
Up their dwellings and  possessions
We can begin some civilised fracking
With our governmental concessions

That's what separates us from them
I hope you have now realised
It is a government controlled by business
That makes us so very civilized