Wake up and smell the roses,
Wake up and smell the Earth!
Wake up and smell the atmosphere --
Survival here, what's it worth?

China's on a scentless runaway train of concrete,
more roads for more cars raising the heat.
Fukushima still tottering on a brink of destruction;
before building contraptions good to read the instructions.

Africa's getting land-grabbed, exportation of food
from the hungry Motherland nation,
though some get jobs the small farmers struggle
due to investor machinations.

The long drawn out prez election is a faux race,
a select the mini-messiah chase
but Elijah is a no-show and no Anointed One from honest toil,
just a workless ethic of snake-oil.

The Great Divide is between the head and heart,
between the higher-up control-freaks and the lowly slaves,
between the settlers and the Indigenous.
The Great Divide is between the materialists and the ethereal beings ... yet there's a light that shines in the darkest caves.

Manifest Destiny is still on the run
deep INTO the Earth but She don't want THAT done.
The real Manifest Destiny is manifesting what heals,
putting this planet on an even keel.

In springtime when the temperature gets warm
there's a scent that rises from the moist loam,
it's a blending of the sacred elements:
the smell of home!

Dank of the forest and ocean's salt-breeze,
hyacinth and honeysuckle scents that please,
but there's so much garbage and air pollution
tainting water's natural joyful ablution.

Wake up and smell the roses,
Wake up and smell the Earth!
Wake up and smell the atmosphere --
Survival here, what's it worth?