Their profits still boom while prophets of doom are labelled as merely misguided. Big Oil wants us cross; they don’t give a toss – we’re easier led when divided.
Who cares if both the choices stink? Who cares what other people think?
What can’t be fixed with push and shove we’ll mend, instead, with endless love.
If yours is an exclusive clique, which denigrates the poor or weak, You've named it wrong
I don’t think I’d make a good God