Black Ice

Black Ice

Johnny Onda

The weatherman has no alibi
For a coastline in decline
He’s just praying for some quiet time
In front of the TV

And the polar bears are losing friends
Let’s raise a glass to the end
Of everything we’ve ever known
Here comes the rising sea
Black ice in April, forest fires in May
Build my final sandcastle before the rising waves
And we’ll still insist that some things will never change
Let’s pretend that some things will never change

Another migrant body buried in the sand
Someone send a body bag
Or some navy ships to intervene
The annual feign of sympathy
Those cue cards are hard to read
And the talking heads, and the disbelief
Turn a blind eye, in my suit and tie
It’s all too hard to see
Black ice in April, forest fires in May
Build my final sandcastle before the rising waves
And we’ll still insist that some things will never change
Let’s pretend that some things will never change

We thought we’d played a blinder
With that ace up my sleeve
But the ice is melting in my drink
Best wrap up the after dinner speech

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