Man and machine moan and toil,
Blacken the sky, exhaust the soil.
The world bleeds for our demands,
The world's blood is on our hands.
Our waste fills up oceans
Our bread's ground from your bones
Our world withers like a rose
We are
Generation Locust.
Drain the Ogallala's deep waters,
Nothin' but dust for your sons and daughters.
Who on Earth's gonna pay this tab,
Before we lose everything we have.