I think about nuclear waste
sometimes.
Those pools where barrels of nasty things
Stay thousands of years to reach peace.
The nasty things that once shined so bright
And for that reason soon decayed
Their half-life is so long, is out of human scale.
It is out of the scale of civilizations.
And that is not even the end
As some of it collapses in the mean time
Into a variety of new things,
Toxic in their own particular way
It is just a long road full of bumps.
With little hope of a silver lining from it.
But most people know, most people know
There is a short cut
Just throw a lot of sand there
Just throw a lot of cement over it
Just mix it with the kind of boring material
That you find everywhere
Let it not be special
Mix it up until it gets ordinary
And here comes the poetic catch I so dearly planned
As the same thing people do with their hearts
They lose the hope of ever finding a new use to toxic
feelings
They just throw a lot of sand there
They just throw a lot of cement over it
They just mix it with the kind of boring material
That you find everywhere
Let it not be special
Mix it up until it gets ordinary
Most people know, most people know.
