People the forests on fire
A golden crust that mocks the horizon
Destruction burns in the cinders of a liar
An orange toxin of changing times
Oh I didn’t see this own goal.
If this isn’t what it is,
Then what is it that it is?
Oh what is it that it is?
On the other side there's a crack in the iceburg
And a cold unknown through this divide
A chosen shift towards isolation
A chilling tell of changing times
And through it all came the cull of creation
The turning heads of unique minds
A questioning in this desperation
An eerie gloss over changing times