Wrap a garbage bag around my wrist, And use it as a plastic parachute.
Jump off the bridge, with makeshift lifesavers
Made of Glad bags and that makes it ironic.
Because there’s water, water everywhere
That we all forgot to drink.
Unpalatable, just because it’s not unsweetened.
So unravel your canteens,
And use those as a plastic parachute.
One fundamental difference, and I might’ve been a garbage man instead.

The labels on the canned foods say
Vegetarians become cannibals
When barley fields burn down.
When the water and the waves have trickled down.
Desperation fuels a hungry need
For nonchalant decisions.

The charred remains of vegetables
Are moaning, begging God for an abortion.
They know the waste and filth they’re to become.
But still we’ll sit around the dinner table,
Eating a meat called Spam and that makes it ironic.
We all ignore the grease stains on our plates,
The nourishment for mites inside the garbage pail,
Genetics for our parachutes to grow.

The barley’s burned to ashes on our fields,
So wrap a garbage bag around my head.
One fundamental difference, and I might’ve been a vegetable instead.