expendable savages

what need have we for poet and his lyre
the news comes in of humankind's deep pain
of savage drought and of incessant rain
the world is caught up in enormous fire
while foolish voices echo in their choir
that we should never go against the grain
the only measure is of loss and gain
and every hero's just another liar
nothing is left after we see the flash
we're told the only safe course is obey
and while we're at it just ignore the smell
someone will gratefully take all the cash
and tell us that there was no better way
while all the time our earth turns into hell