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With every bit of plastic

The system’s weighted down.

With every mile driven

How red-faced grows the clown.

Too close, too close

To the sun we fly.

Too tall we build the structures;

They’ve grown just way too high.

Collapse is laughing , whirling, spinning,

Collapse is dancing a merry jig

On every moneyed tower

That’s wobbling and swaying

Above our smiling faces

Until it all comes crashing down.

And from the tiny pieces

We can but hope

Humanity’s still able

To sing a little note.

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