Нижний Бензин

Thermal count is rising
In perpetual writhing
The primordial ooze
And the sanity they lose

Awakened in the morning
To more air pollution warnings
Still we sleepwalk off to work
While our nervous systems jerk

Pretending not to notice
How history had forebode us
With the green house in effect
Our environment was wrecked

Now I can only laugh
As I read our epitaph
We end our lives as moles
In the dark of dawn patrol