The sun is shining so very bright,
The gases are trapped the pressure is building,
Is this real? This isn’t right.
We are the seeds within a flower wilting,
Our future fading, a pitiful plight.
It just a little hotter, just a little breeze,
Just better weather, nothing that makes you freeze,
Nothing to fret about, just a little less trees,
Come on now, are you for real?
This is no wound that time will heal.