I hate the air, I always despair: is it clean, or does it just seem? I hate the food, as I begin to brood: is it safe, or did they use mace? I hate the water, as I begin to falter: is it okay, as I look at the littered bay? I love the environment, I love the sea, it should be there in retirement, and not full of pee. I love the planet, and all that worry makes me manic. Is it a joy or just a ploy to clean all that we see? We can work together, we can work apart. There has even been ideas to harness farts. I want to clean, I want the world to gleam. We can all make it better, we can all write a letter. But it makes no difference, if we don’t clean on our knees. It makes no difference if we don’t save the bees. We all want to share, but we have to clean our air. With our environment and not against it. No one owns this world we all rent it.