The smiling turtle looks like he’s
About to break into a laugh He’s been
Waiting a long time for the punch-line
But I am not smiling
My mirror has misted up
I feel the closeness of the swamp
I think we are sinking
Into the muck of our business
We have to call off the meeting
We have to rethink our mission statement
Count off by fours Form work-groups
Shout out the names of trouble and
Make peace with the gravity
Of our situation Admit
That things aren’t going as planned
I have no ID for this I’m not
Going to pass I’m
Freaking out I need a powerful talisman
Too late for a hybrid
Will the electric car save us?
Will the great wall stand against the tide?
We should have this whole thing under control
By 2025 Will someone just get that
Little sinking country off my back?
I’m trying to be a good nobody
I’m trying to remember
How to make an organic sandwich
I’m trying to remember my name
But I’m too close to the truth And
When you get this close to anything
It disintegrates into subatomic stuff
And I’m just saying This is freaky
My Mama never prepared me for this
She loved to sing Oklahoma, when the wind
Comes sweeping down the plain
And the wavin’ wheat can sure smell sweet
When the wind comes right behind the rain. . .
My mother would be lost here
Her eyes would ask, where are we?
I don’t know where this is, Mom The only
Signs that make sense are the ones
Too far away to read Signs of change