The word Make is
a forced term
At times you have to
kill a germ
The whole wide world
is up in termoil
maybe it's because man
was made from soil
and it looks like he'll die from oil
A little dirtier than dirt
must have got on the white shirt
Adam defied the creator
and boy did it hurt

With millions of mixed good
and stupid brains
each and everyday it acid rains
It seems we can't clean the stains
thus hardly any man gains
We all eventually suffer the pains
Lifes force of air runs free
it we can't even see
However it holds lifes key
Smokers and polluters foul
up the air
Many of them don't even care
Like we got plenty to spare

There isn't much peace to
go around
it seems the stupids and goods
share the same ground
Birds of a feather flock together
to survive
It seems it will take humans
longer to simply arrive
Walking around feeling superior
and proud
Look up no telling what might
be in a cloud
Next thing you know you could
be screaming out loud

opg