Adam Smith's invisible hand
clenches Mother Earth's testicles
even though the globe is warming
everyone's cold as icicles

Grey afternoons mourn the morning
humanity's in a pickle
stormy souls drive SUV's
instead of fuel-free bicycles

I looked at you, don't look at me
but if your fancy is tickled
be renegade and heed the warning
defy everything typical

if we desire another dawning,
track the downfall to its source
the world turns round with capital
but it's rolling off course

turn yourself into an obstacle
halt its fiercesome force