Mysterious form, soul in the dark
under this heavy sealing concrete waves
Followed by servants, funeral cortege
this pale ghost is gathering his strength

Ghost, pale, the procession is crawling

Plastic form dead things it is now so clear
How could I fail to understand
Cities are burning the trees are dying
My heart awake but still
pain is killing me
Pain is killing me

Take this pestilent [bad word] out of my way
The great pacific garbage patch is exhausting
And the world is sliding away
in a vortex of floating refuse
With the sacred one you have lost

Plastic bag in the sea [4x]