Mic In the Mountain

The train comes by every morning bout 5 I wish that train would find a cliff and collide It’s driven by a demon on a joy ride Always, arriving with some poison to unpack Where ever it came from, i wish it’d go back. Whoever blows the whistle is most vile of all He probably blew whistles at the plant in Bhopal Uselessly sounding off while thousands died Now they bring me their killer pesticides To store deep in these hills, in the chemical valley Here it continues adding death to the tally If it leaks, everyone I know will suffer a similar fate Carbide thinks life is worth less than methyl isocyanate