When we cut the grass, we cut our ties to our natural past/

create an urban disaster path worse than the Katrina aftermath/

we cast the lower class and leave ’em broken/

but we won’t cast their bones because their broke and homeless/

most folks don’t condone this but the pressure’s on like zone blitz and the athletes own the most shit/

a dose can cause narcoses and just a toast can turn us into ghosts/

were all floating off the coast in just a soaking boat/

its in slow motion the way we prepare to save the ocean/

as we take another sip of oil potion, from the sea thats broken/

our straw is not enough to save our soil from the water that is potent