A distant shrill of Grinding gears Sends chills throughout The twentieth century's Siren song.
The suited men With crooked smirks File in line to be The first to eat From concrete ****.
They tear And they tear And they tear Clawing at nature's green Humming as droning bees Waking birds from their falling trees They will be the first to eat.
Stripped lies mother earth In a ****** heap The end will be digitized
I've begun to blink My vision falling into place I've begun to think These vultures defiled ancient peace
How can I? How can they? How can we?
My newly Formed Vision Walks in The sight The plane of life Betrayed by It's own creation.