Poem by Will Scribe
Let the birds die! Worship the wind turbines!
Death to the birds! it’s the price we must pay,
Without totem poles where do we pray?
Wind turbines their beauty, we must all admire,
As their blades keep on turning, as their motors catch fire!
We’re sick of natural beauty, it’s been around forever;
Let’s blight it with wind farms, so that we must never
Be forced to gaze upon moors, mountains and valleys,
Without seeing those blades turn in the breeze.
Sacrifice Golden Eagles let us cut off their heads;
By wind turbine blades, let them be torn to shreds.
Climate change extremists, why should they be concerned?
Progress, they tell us, is always hard earned.
Unless of course the birds are killed by a spill,
From rig out at sea, as the oil companies drill;
Then the extremists’ voices will be heard loud and clear,
It’s called double standards, its what they practice, my dear.
Brainwashed by the rhetoric, we’re so hypnotised,
Bowing down to the wind turbines, they’re so very prized.
These icons of climate change, held in such veneration,
We need to build more for our next generation.
Wind turbines we worship you, as over us you tower,
Even though you don’t generate very much power.
You’re a symbol, like the cross of an earlier crusade,
Helping defeat the system by which we are paid.