There's plastic in the veins of the ocean
Petrol in the roots of the earth
Hatred in the souls of the people
And freedom, till the day of their birth
There is wood binding up in the rivers
Stone in the springs on the mount
Cogs and gears where compassion once resided
And sadness, too numerous to count
Ma I'm tired I'm gonna run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run
Silicone grows its trees in the forest
Fire lights up the great lakes
Tryptamine does the mind of the thinkers
Sleep becomes the new wide awake
Money turns the wheels of republics
Blood discerns the rules of the land
Nostradamus, Helter Skelter, Baptist preacher all to call the great spirit
Will not stay my right hand
I'm tired I'm gonna run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run, run
Ma I'm tired, gonna run
There's plastic in the veins of this ocean
Petrol in the roots in the earth