Mysterious form, soul in the dark
under this heavy sealing concrete waves
Followed by servants, funeral cortege
this pale ghost is gathering his strength
Ghost, pale, the procession is crawling
Plastic form dead things it is now so clear
How could I fail to understand
Cities are burning the trees are dying
My heart awake but still
pain is killing me
Pain is killing me
Take this pestilent destruction out of my way
The great pacific garbage patch is exhausting
And the world is sliding away
in a vortex of floating refuse
With the sacred one you have lost
Plastic bag in the sea
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