Nothin Sacred

Staring at the sky, hoping for some rain
The tears well in my eyes—wash away this pain.
Trouble in the air—the smell of burning trees.
They stripped the hillsides bare, spreading the disease.

You tell me nothin’s sacred.
I don’t believe that it’s true.
If there’s nothin’ sacred
you know that we’re all through.

Staring at the sky, forgotten how to pray.
A deeper shade of blue fades into the grey.
Rows of trophy homes convenient to the mall:
but just like cancer loves the bone, feed it to the sprawl.

You tell me nothin’s sacred.
I don’t believe that it’s true.
If there’s nothin’ sacred
you know that we’re all through.

©2005 LApp