The wasted wind
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind - Bob Dylan
What force can power the years ahead?
Now the age of oil is dead
we wait for industry to heed
the whisper of the wasted wind,
the whisper of the wasted wind.
A pivotal crisis is upon us
and ready or not we shoulder the onus.
We must make good or else be goners,
be dust dispersed by the wasted wind,
dust dispersed by the wasted wind.
We’ve insufficient years for nuclear salvation,
no time to build the nuke power stations,
and no clear plan for carbon sequestration
but what we’ve got is wasted wind,
terajoules of wasted wind.
Consider the sheets that shift in the breeze,
study the shivering swathes of summer leaves,
listen to that energy wrestling with the trees.
We’ll whirl our blades with the wasted wind,
spin our sails with the wasted wind.
Why do we counter the British winter chill
with power pumped from caverns of Hell
while the wolves of deliverance howl on the hills?
Let’s harness the huff of the wasted wind,
appropriate the puff of the wasted wind.
‘cos the wind blows wild and the wind blows free,
and it blows on the land, not just over the sea.
Recycle the oil rigs! We really need to be
driving our wheels with the wasted wind
and ploughing our fields with the wasted wind.
It’s easy and cheap, it’s safe and it’s clean
but coalition clowns curtailed it with a ban
and were grubbing for dirt when with wisdom they’d’ve been
inflating our stocks with the wasted wind,
dilating our pockets with wasted wind.
The carbon economy brings us war,
the rich grow fat and the poor stay poor.
Let’s get smart and let’s fight for
healing the world with the wasted wind.
Healing the world with the wasted wind.
The wasted wind.
The wasted wind.
The wasted wind….