While the madness never ends in the eternal race to collect everything that has never before existed and destroy all we know, I pause just long enough to wonder, what the hell are we doing?
The crook ‘n chief is facing jail,
and Budd has come to make his bail.
Varsity Blues, the same old song —
cheerleaders shout, and sing along.
Our cities choked — too many cry
while on our streets our children die,
while billionaires get lost in space
abandoning the human race.
The tourists come — they choke our parks
‘till lights go out, and all is dark,
‘till birds don’t sing, and plants can’t grow,
all is lost. All that we know.
Carbon credits make all fine
for crypto crooks who own the mines,
while poor folk struggle every day
to feed their kids for minimum pay.
Big Pharma shouts, “Hey worship me!
I’ve come along to set you free.”
“The jury’s out,” the lawyers say,
“We only want to earn our pay.”
“Pay to play, it is the way
to get things done,” Old white men say,
“Grease the palm, we’ll get along
until the evidence is gone.”
Bitcoin, for it they all will mine
upon the forest left behind.
For crypto, they will burn all down
’til all are lost, and none are found.
And the madness never ends…