Sky full of blue
Seldom any clouds
Rivers have stopped flowing
No puddles lying around
Straws held to the sky
Suck on empty clouds
Birds are falling from flight
And 42 degrees in the shade
No one is to blame
No one with a name
Production lean and high
Meeting profits' rising line
Neighbors watching garden taps
Flower beds turn brown
Dust conceals once shining cars
Winds howl a warning loud
Sipping bottled water
Half full all the time
Wages seem half empty
Workers keep a smile
Turning up the temperature
Turning up tension's fire
People under pressure
Feeling heat upon the ground
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