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
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