Toxic Garbage Island

Mysterious form, soul in the dark

Under this heavy ceiling concrete waves

Followed by servants, funeral cortege

This pale ghost is gathering his strength

Ghost, pale

The procession is crawling

Plastic form dead things it is now so clear

How could I fail to understand

Cities are burning the trees are dying

My heart awake but still

Pain is killing me

Pain is killing me

Take this pestilent destruction out of my way

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is exhausted

And the world is sliding away

In a vortex of floating refuse

With the sacred one you have lost

Plastic bag in the sea

Plastic bag in the sea

Plastic bag in the sea

Plastic bag in the sea