We turn up our collars or mop our brows ,
Seal up the windows, force air cool or hot
Our purses are thinned by nameless men
Who own the vast machines that drill the earth.

We are warned of a grim future askew
When the frozen is melted, up is down
But how can we who live for fleet delights
Sacrifice Now for unnamed grandchildren?

We turn up our dials but tune out the news
Seal away our minds against all doubts
We open our purses to repel the gloom
But we are spending more than paper notes

We can hope for children are rebellious
They’ll awaken to our abdication