You say that the way I feel, it's all just chemicals in my brain.

It's all just strange air in my atmosphere.

It's all just new colours in my rivers.

But you are my industry.

You are my factory.

You are my smoke stacks.

You are my production line.

You are my cheap sneakers.

You are my fast food.

And I'm a planet you once called home.

That's nearly out of air.