Sitting in silicone dioxide

When the sky is dirty and the sea is black
And the children suffer fatal heart attacks
When the vultures come to perch
On the waste that will still be claimed as Earth
When the chimneys spew a rancid sludge
And the paper that was greedy becomes a drug
When we’re drinking down a robot’s vile
In cities where choices are almost tidal
When our stars aren’t made of burning gas
But replaced with liars who could run from taps
When our voices don’t have microphones
They’ve a dressing of oppression for the sighs and moans
When we’ve stripped all of the passion from beneath our clothes
And the world is run by people who are suited crows
Then we’d think it would be fit to give up on our purpose
But if we can’t see that time is now then I guess our thoughts are worthless.