Hang them from the trees now that they tried to kill
Make them swallow oil now until their bodies turn still
Radiate their children so they might understand
This type of economics runs deeper than the bank

Oh Well, Well, Well, My Planet’s Dead

I taste the radiation on the tip of my tongue
See it in my children who are feral animals
Deformed like little monsters,
They cannot walk or talk at all
If I tried to call them human
You would tell me I was wrong

Oh Well, Well, Well, My Planet’s Dead

Dead like my great grandmother
Dead like the middle class
Dead like the America Dream
Dead like Whitman’s Grass
So baby sleep while you can cos soon you’re gonna
Sleep in Hell

This man he thinks he’s god now
That life is his to take
Let him fall to the lions and let Mother Nature show her place
Or karma better act now, and humble this poor man,
Cos if not I’ma get to him and kill the --
With my bare hands

Oh Well, Well, Well, My Planet’s Dead