Lament for Eden

I heard that once upon a time
the Earth was nice and green.
Until, that is, the human race
appeared upon the scene.
Without ado we set about
despoiling Nature's goods:
we poisoned the water, befouled the air,
and chopped down all the woods.

Upon the planet's animals
we soon began to war.
The Romans slaughtered millions,
'cause they thought it was hard-core.
A thousand species were wiped out
before we'd even blinked;
see, humans are fatally talented
at making things extinct.

We soon forgot about all else
except the bottom line.
As long as there was dough to make,
well, that was good and fine.
The other living things on Earth
were forced to step aside.
And as for the ones that got in the way,
we just made sure they died.

Alas, poor world! I wish it was
the way it used to be.
When animals were not locked up
in zoos, but roaming free.
Does that make me a Gloomy Gus,
all cynical inside...?
Well maybe it does,
'cause I'll tell you this:
I have NO human pride.

The Insecticide Boogie

It's so handy-dandy sweet,
knocks those bugs right off their feet.
Causes cancer, burns the eyes,
works just great on kids an' flies.

Insecticide! Insecticide!
Nowhere left to run and hide.
When it's too late we will come to grips
with our poison-engendered apocalypse,
but meantime go spray those annoying thrips
with that ol' Insecticide.

Malathion, liquid Sevin
kicks bug ass to crawly heaven.
Liver tumors, deformed backs...
Drops leafhoppers in their tracks.

Insecticide! Insecticide!
Grab your poison, go outside.
Yardguard the ladybugs, aphids and ants.
Coat the tomatoes and young carrot plants.
Wipe out the bees with a chemical dance
of that ol' Insecticide.

Die if swallowed! USE WITH CARE!
Blistered skin and loss of hair.
Bomb the whole house, that's the deal,
then feed Baby nice big meal...

Insecticide! Insecticide!
Says it's safe. Yeah, sure. They lied.
New ultra-convenient puppy spray
will kill him quite dead, I'm sorry to say.
Can we somehow not find a better way
than that ol' Insecticide..?!

My American Dream

I found out today my American Dream
with its mortgage, gazebo and lawn,
is built where once stood an old chemical plant,
of which visible traces are gone.

I first started thinking that things were amiss
when my roses, which used to be pink,
turned the color of motor oil, bloomed inside-out,
and emitted a toluene stink.

Our terrier Spot caught a demonic itch,
and shed follicles all through the house.
Then the kitty went hunting one fine summer day,
and brought home a thirteen-legged mouse.

The birdbath dissolved where it stood overnight,
and went seeping down into the ground.
The pines smelled like asphalt, the lilacs went black,
and dead squirrels were everywhere found.

I called Jimbo Smiley, my real estate man,
to complain, so he listened then said:
"Most likely it's just a last lingering trace
of dioxin, or naptha, or lead."

I asked Mr. Smiley what gave him the right
to sell homes on a poisonous dump:
"Don't you care that these toxins might kill us?" I cried.
He laughed, " Caveat Emptor, you chump."

I threatened to sue him, I hollered and raged
till my throat became raspy with yelling.
With a flippant "Screw you" he then hung up the phone,
while the fumes from my yard grew worse-smelling.

My wife soon departed, the pets all expired,
now I'm losing the sight in one eye.
Guess we're all gonna cook in a chemical H-ll,
for allowing our good Earth to die.

The Trophy Room

Ninety-nine animal heads on the wall,
each one endangered, not one of them small.
Lions and rhinos and even a gnu;
an albino tiger! I blasted him, too.

That albatross there flew some marvelous flights,
till he came in too low and I shot out his lights.
Cheetahs like that one run faster than trains;
I aimed from a chopper to blow out his brains.

Now zebras ain't anything specially hot,
but I shotgunned sixteen, and I left them to rot.
That antelope there took a long time to die,
though I shattered his skull with a slug through the eye.

My anti-tank ammo soon finished that buff,
when hollow-point magnums weren't deadly enough.
My round caught that Thompson's gazelle in mid-leap,
and I gut-shot her fawn when I found it asleep.

I drilled that gorilla from out of a truck,
but I missed his two pals. (Damn, what miserable luck!)
Then down at the river I stood on a dock,
and shot forty holes in that saltwater croc.

I only hunt trophies, don't bother with trash.
Check out that baboon! Boy, I settled his hash.
Those elephant tusks are my favorite prize:
The bull they belonged to was world-record size.

An oryx, an ibex, a hyrax or seven;
killing things truly is macho-man heaven.
Bullets and gunpowder sure make my day.
Keep that Sierra Club out of my way!

Nothing can come between "Baby" and me.
(Don't mean my wife but my rifle, y'see.)
With her I'll never feel sad or depressed.
In me, my Baby brings out all the best.

Ninety-nine animal heads on the wall.
Gosh, how I love it when I see them fall!
What's that you say? I'm a "murderous fool"?
My feelings are hurt. Why, how dare you be cruel...?!

Heaven

Heaven...
This ain't Heaven,
'cause the solitude and peacefulness I seek
has been ruined by a truly frightful reek
from the sewage truck which crashed into the creek.

Heaven...
What is Heaven?
Could it be eternal respite from the shriek
of another victim mugged by one more freak
with a gun and lots of psycopathic pique.

Heaven?
This is Heaven?
We've been quarantined since Tuesday of last week,
when our big atomic plant began to leak.
That's what I call a protracted losing streak.

Heaven...
Is there Heaven?
Where mahogany trees grow, and so does teak?
Where environmental sanity's still chic?
Such a place, for me, would have a sure mystique.

Heaven...
So long, Heaven.
Careless humans simply don't deserve a peek.
After what we've done down here? That's really weak.
And I'm mighty sure I know whereof I speak.

Slough of Despond

I went to a great university once.
The orotund professors there
counseled me to cut my hair,
said I hadn't any flair,
wouldn't study, didn't care,
thought their thoughts were so much air...
So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.

I went to a vast metropolis once.
The vicious violence, fetid smells,
murder victims' plaintive yells,
knee-deep dogsqueeze, clanging bells,
overflowing prison cells,
deadly air and poison wells,
rather gave me sleepless spells...
So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.

I went to a foreign country once.
The smirks and sneers and hate galore,
the rat-eyed cops behind each door,
rip-off artists by the score,
filthy rich amassing more,
system rotten to the core,
altogether made me sore...
So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.

I went back to my home town once.
The sex shop where my house had been,
squalid projects rank with sin,
drifting beggars, pale and thin,
honking horns and raucous din,
liquor forts dispensing gin,
kind of put me in a spin...
So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.

I went to a beautiful planet once.
But constant wars and endless greed,
starving poor and needless need,
spite in every word and deed,
bombs instead of food and seed,
made it plain for me to read:
They would die before succeed.
So, I packed up my stuff and...