The Edge

Imagine a tree, and touch it with your hand.
Feel its pulse beating through your body.
Can you feel it dying?
Can you feel its despair; its fear?
It’s the earth you’re feeling.
 

We’re standing on the edge of our time.
How have we made something endless, so mortal?
Look around and see it dying.
We are ruining ourselves,
and everyone around us.

Imagine a mirror, observe yourself.
Give yourself some thinking.
Ever thought of all the thoughts wasted?
Take revenge and recycle.
 

It's not that hard, is it?

Is it so hard to think about what’s happening?
Is it so easy to destroy the world and not look back?
Are you never curious,
of everything you left behind?
Everything you threw over the edge?
 

And when you’ve come this far, imagine the world.
Walk all the way, imagining the wonderful places,
Full of trees you’ve touched,
Full of flowers; full of life.
Where have they gone for real?
 

We’ve drawn the edge of the earth.
Together we march forward.
Some slow, some are running fast.
We leave a trail of destruction and filth.
Are you coming with us?
Will you make us stop?
Can we make time last longer,
Can we rub out the line,
And make the edge disappear?
Can we keep on living, keep on surviving?
Well, can we?