Take the giver of our lives, push her aside,
Cut down the greens, and spit black to the hevens
Make way for the rumblings of trucks and trains,
To put carbon on your wife’s finger,
I hope her smile will just this murder.
For every twinkle in her eye and every kiss of thanks she gives,
steals a million of year from our host.
Turn a blind eye, for you don’t understand her bleed, her pain,
Think, open your eye, look to these dirty skies,
Like a drowning child, she is screaming, this slow, terrible death,
For every excessive passing ray of sun is like a dagger in her back,
but the knife of hate is in your hand, on your finger
I hope her smile will just this murder

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