There it stood,
Tall, and 'majestic' ;
Glowering down on the animals below.
A voice shouts,
A child cries,
But no - one can hear them.
The humans walk around their
'Dirt Free' cities,
With sickly,
Green,
Walls,
Overtaken by the moss rebellion.
Another voice cries,
Anarchy breaks out;
But no - one can hear them crying.
They're too busy keeping their world clean,
Denying reality entry to their lives,
Corrupting countries.
Oh no, they won't hear,
They won't ever hear the cries of reality.