Why is it that humans look to heaven
When all ’round them they can find their brethren?
What’s more is what they can find down below
With a sickle, a shovel, and a hoe:
Nutrients that have more glory than God.
It’s something that I have always found odd.
To turn to the ever cancerous sky
Who’s one redemption is when the clouds cry.
And we could find fresh water in rivers-
Though one must look out for things that slither,
For while mother Gaea can be loving,
She cannot prevent our cousin’s hunting.
Still I’d first trust destiny in her hands
Than under the fist of a Christian man,
Who has crusaded with a zealous pride
And burned innocent crops while on his ride.
The irony is that with every win
He has indulged in the cardinal sin;
That in his search for greatness and glory
He lost the teachings that he held holy.
So stick to the land and I think you’ll find
This heaven of Earth is one of a kind.
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