Saturday 30 November 2019

Tapping The Barometers


There's a time bomb ticking, or maybe it's a deathwatch beetle
And there are fingers tapping on glass, to try and move a needle
Perfect pressure is rising, like a fuse to burn a tinderbox of land
Parching what was verdant green, as the forest fires are fanned
It's time that's ticking, but not forwards, it's quickly ticking down
Not pausing for a single second, until it reaches the zero ground
Godforsaken world of our existence, it's going to 'crash and burn'
The end's in sight, we saw it coming, but there wasn't time to turn
High tides' water's lapping, so why are we tapping the barometers?
Everyone knows the facts, it's in the mercury of our thermometers
Born to die, one by one, but with extinction we can all die together
And although it'll not be today, ahead there is only stormy weather
Run for cover and hide away, beneath all those futile sapling trees
Our last hope has gone now, in the smoke of an Amazonian breeze
Mining, drilling, scrape the ocean bed and prospecting wells for oil
Earth to dearth, dust to dust and the fracking hell of rocks and soil
There's a time bomb ticking and there's not an hour left to wheedle
Even if the pressure is passing 'stormy', of the anticlockwise needle
Rage with need and say a pointless prayer, to keep the children fed
Sometime, much too soon, our blue planet will turn to Martian red


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