LYRIC

The world refuses to heal
Despite the passionate musicians
Who lament environmental decay
In the catchiest of ways
As they breed at or beyond
The replacement rate

Dude, that's such a catchy chorus
(Duuude!);
It rocks like ironic activists
But if you care about this crisis,
Better allocate some quality time
For a good look at,
A long talk with,
Your conventional penis

Easy to blame corporations
Or castigate world governments
But your precious little miracles
Are merely market signals
To producers of fossil fuels
And industrial chemicals

Perhaps pollution
Doesn't bother you like you say it does
Perhaps (Perhaps) sickness
Doesn't bother you like you claim it does
Perhaps (Perhaps) suffering
Doesn't bother you like you say it does
Not drought, not landfills, not crowding
Not deforestation, nor poverty
Not war, not extinction, or sprawling
Not epidemics, nor scarcity
Not eminent domain or exponential karaoke
Not even millions dying prematurely

Parents with kiddos at protests:
You rock like ironic musicians
But if you care about this crisis,
Better allocate some quality time
For a good look at,
A long talk with,
Your recreant organs

Bet you never fathomed we God monsters
Would get the heavens
So damned riled up
That they'd rip themselves apart
And wrap their hands
Right around our throats

Breeder times breeders
X more breeders:
You shout those catchy slogans;
They rock like ironic musicians
Bro–Bro–Bro
Bro!–Bro!–Bro!
Your hip unworldly lyrics
Hop heaven like Bible chariots
But if you care about this crisis,
Better allocate some quality time
For a good look at,
A long talk with,
Your conventional penis

If you really want
A better planet,
Ride the night with
Rubber right after
You ramp yourself up
With a review
Of basic mathematics

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