The city sweats in its concrete skin
The asphalt breathes the fever in
The poor fan flames with broken fans
While the rich adjust their golden plans
The children run through rivers of dust
The old ones crumble, turn to rust
But high above in crystal towers
The cool air falls like chemical flowers
They built a world of heat and greed
Then fled the fire they helped to feed
They breathe the cold they stole from grace
And leave the rest to burn in place
The thermocrat says I am the air
While the city chokes on his despair
He rides the storms he helped to make
And buys the silence of the lake
The poor dig graves with their own breath
The rich are cool in the face of death
The heat will rise, the seas will claim
But the rich will move and stay the same
The farmer cries for ancient rain
The banker smiles at the hurricane
He bets on floods, he trades on drought
And counts the dead to even out
The factory hums, the children cough
The worker's lungs are wearing off
But in the shade of private jets
They sip their guilt and have no debts
They say we all are in this fight
But some are cool and some alight
Some are in the cooling breeze
Some are on their melting knees
They sell us carbon, sell us air
They sell the future we don't dare
To see the truth inside the frost
That the rich have never truly lost
The thermocrat says I am the air
While the city chokes on his despair
He rides the storms he helped to make
And buys the silence of the lake
The poor dig graves with their own breath
The rich are cool in the face of death
The heat will rise, the seas will claim
But the rich will move and stay the same
So raise your hands to the burning sky
The cool air is a wealthy lie
We built this fire with our own chains
And now the cool air feeds the flames
Of the thermocrat the air of shame