In steps complexity
with a simple plan
and seemingly creates
This creature man.
Fresh from the fire,
into the pan.

Our best of plans
Can barely enhance
What we openly attribute
Just to chance.
Though the beat is in our hearts,
we still seek a newer dance.

Washing our blood stained hands in the Nile,
(Or Arthur Kull)
selling widgets all the while.
We’d like to save the Earth,
So long as it’s in style.

So we few remain
who listen with conviction.
To the screeching
Or the squealing
As they scowl into extinction.
Never knowing if it’s fate,
Or self fulfilling prediction.

And we were they
Who see
the saddest sights ever shown.
Just another epoch of the longest story we have known.
To lose the mother to us all,
An Earth to call our own.

Yes,

we were they,

Who went along,

Carry on without a clue.

Ride the good ship Earth,

never knowing what to do. 

Just watch the heavens as 

they pass,

and pretend it isn’t true.