Bottled Air

This is dedicated to the future,
I’m sorry…
You children as sick as the soil
Will you struggle to replant lost forests?
To heal what’s left of our proud toil?
And the week shall save the world
From the graves their grandparents dug yesterday,
To bury the children of today.

This is dedicated to my baby,
The one I’m not cruel enough to have…
Ghost cities, and invaded deprivation
Treasure fever, oil is sweeter
Than water, but water is an industry
And paper money was once a tree.
When life was free…

I’m so sorry, my dear,
But free isn’t good business,
And wouldn’t make much of a monopoly…
I would stop but I’m lost in the transaction
For air while it’s still free to breathe
We’re major share-holders, you see
It’s free as long as it’s clean.
But clean costs money greens
Green printed on a fallen tree
So if you don’t mind, pray tell, please…
Is the trash you’re drowning in recycled?

This is dedicated to the future,
From a ghost of yesterday,
I’m sorry, it isn’t fair…
Disenfranchised, I can’t help wonder if
It would be like this if enough of “I” cared,
To ask, what fee do you pay for bottled air?
Does it kill you slow, or stave off death?
Does the world end with a crash or in a struggling breath?
What is the going price for the last seed?

I’m so sorry, my dear…
I used the last water to keep the lawn green
And you’re not a popular topic for the discreet scrutiny
Of neighbors, talk-show hosts, or two-sided debates on TV
It would be different… but you see
There was an issue with the funding
To save you some rain and a non-toxic breeze
Tomorrow wasn’t a good investment opportunity
And our campaign didn’t have enough money…
And your paper money,
Was once a tree.