Lyrics

The lights go out
The curtain’s raised
Just above the waterline
The front row seats get nervous
The balcony drinks fine wine
I was there
I saw it all
Dead fish on the Murray River
Bats are falling from the sky
What do I tell you my blue-eyed son
What will I tell you my darling young one?

It used to be all easy play
But now the time moves so much faster
The heat haze hides the light of day
It’s hard to see who’s master
Some pray god just might deliver
Water trucks, the towns are dry
What do I tell you my blue-eyed son
What will I tell you my darling young one?

All you liars and deniers watch the forests burn
The ires of all these floods and fires will leave us no return
Stoke the fires
Dig up the coal
For how much do you sell your soul?
Greed greed
Pumping gas is pumping dollars
Jobs and growth and
Greed greed
Clear more trees, plant more cotton
Mine barons rule the forgotten
Greed greed

Where’s our future then in all of this?
Every day there’s more that raise a fist
Forget the cotton
Stop the coal
Who gave you the right to sell my soul
Greed greed
Greed greed
We were there
We saw it all

The ‘What will I tell you my son’ couplet in Greed references Bob Dylan who referenced Lord Randall. Indeed, the times are not a-changing. The facts only need updating.