Bleak seems the forthcoming
I’d like to leave before we fall
There’s something we must do
But our apathy never ceases to call
A sprout won’t grow if there
Are stones above the soil
Only will it see the sun if
It lifts them off itself
We’re tumbling off the top shelf
We contort around like dolls
With our hands tied behind our backs
Our problem-solving is stalled
O master please take us there
You may be listening but you don’t care
To rewrite the future by our own will?
Never would we dare.