on a cold fall day.
The trees turn a streaky orange,
The river a glassy jade.
I look up into the air and what do I see,
Hundreds– no, millions– of creatures competing to breathe.
So I ask this giant green blue planet,
When will this acid wear off?
on a cold fall day.
The trees turn a streaky orange,
The river a glassy jade.
I look up into the air and what do I see,
Hundreds– no, millions– of creatures competing to breathe.
So I ask this giant green blue planet,
When will this acid wear off?