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Is there a country in the world willing to squander
One percent GDP so that it mightn't founder
In an ocean that might rise, a temp that might touch
The hundred-degree range, which might well be too much
For the grain to wave amberly and the plains to bear fruit,
All this in some decades: for this theory spend loot?
Methinks it's a rare pol who'll agree to this deal,
Rather than to keep his sweet economy on keel,
And answer to mad citizens who can't get good jobs,
Or pay high for renewable that costs them great gobs,
Or vote from some clown who claims it's all a bad joke:
For the U.N.'s approval and a little less smoke?
No, I think any pol, contemplating this can,
Will take three steps backwards like some rugby he-man,
And two more to the side, checking the way the wind blows,
And kick along that ol' can just as hard as he knows,
So that when it comes down he'll be long retired,
Someone else taking heat with his cred long expired.
So those CO2 levels will continue to rise,
Yes, keep rising and not fall, with the fate this implies,
With the only true solution that stands the least chance
Being to pull CO2 from the air's song and dance,
From the flung oceans as well, and turn it all into juice
Buried in Ma Nature, if she don't mind getting goosed.
Extracting machines, golly, they would be pretty big,
Like a ten-floor building on a Dubai oil rig,
And we'd need a whole lot of 'em to wash all that air,
And another few hundred to make blue oceans fair,
So we'd better begin welding and screwing in pipes,
And before the Planet Earth kicks us back in the tripes.