Why, it’s the oil, they cry,
explaining their war of sorrows.
We need it for our wholeness,
something all of us borrows.
They started it anyway,
we only wanted what’s ours.
We wanted to Run! Run! Run!
and for that we needed great cars.
Who cares if someone was hurt
they aren’t of our cares.
They could never be of us!
What, not that each of them dares.
We fought to get our share,
they didn’t need oil anyway.
Our superiority demanded we win,
and no one else would get a say.
It’s the oil, you see, it allows us to lie.
In our greed and in our hate, it’s clear
that everyone else need die.
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Copyright 2025 Russell Dickerson. All rights reserved.