I can’t make my stomach roll
But my gut is bigger than my brain
Hard to make, hard to tame
That tells me where the problem lies
And it has nothing to do with American fries
It’s Asia and the shithole zones
Filled with rubbish and American loans
Chinese junks that heat the sea
Beijing rubbish for you and me
Garbage that sucks air from the source
Sucking up oxygen as if by force
Fouling our beaches, killing cranes
Screwing America, fouling our lanes
With Chinese and Russian shoes
Small, petite and singing the blues
Acting like sky, promising sun
My gut tells me we’re under the gun
The Chinese invented climate change
Up there in their sneaky range
Sending us rubbish, heated inside
A mile deep and an ocean wide
A thousand fires to spoil out fun
A caravan of filth when they’re done
Just like Mexicans, dirty and wet
Changing the climate, take the bet
But Mad Cow will stop the immigrant train
Changing the climate, causing us pain
A wall right in the South China Sea
Will stop all their rubbish, their Chinese pee
No more condoms on every wave
No more junk from that Chinese cave
Just clean water and just enough sun
Clap your hands for now I’m done.
Mad Cow is a wind in the storm
A gust of a mouth without form
Climate doesn’t change or sing
Don’t give me bits about birds on wing
Or whether Artic ice is thin
Something found in a rubbish bin
Or whether the oceans’ boiling point
Is worth stinking up the White House joint
People breathe a lot of air
Burn their rubbish, fluff their hair
Beat their carpets, raise holy hell
That doesn’t ring the climate bell
Nor do outdoor cooking pits
Burning meat and summer hits
Rivers rise and rivers fall
Should I raise the climate call
And what about gravity’s role
I can’t shimmy up that pole