Is my microphone on, can you hear me?
Wake up, wake up and smell the smoke
because our house is on fire,

and no one is listening to the cry of the children’s choir.

I shout out loud, I scream I sing,
I raise the signs that our protests bring.
I stamp the boots you say I’m too big for,
because I will not stop until our future is secure.
Change is what we want, change is what we need
and we’re down here begging on our knees.
Yet you sit there, as adults reigning high
ignoring the facts, neglecting our sighs.
They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks
So I’m here to destabilise that fix:

To the protection of the wealth made from climate exploitation,
I say since when was money more important than earthly creation.

To the fear that time is no longer on our side.
I say that right now is when you should be taking it in your stride.
And to those who still value convenience over change,
Your comfort is burning, can’t you feel the pain?
Is my microphone on, can you hear me?
cause we’re fed up, fed up of you ignoring
fed up of you dictating

fed up of you snoring, sleeping on our lives.
You, you down there, with that blonde floppy hair
calling the shots in that big Prime Minister chair.
Brexit is failing, the earth is complaining
and still I must question whether you even care.
Strong and stable, a weak old fable
Brexit means Brexit, oh you’re turning the tables
Johnson, Raab and May, Gove, Villiers and Mcvey,
You all have your say, whether we go or whether we stay
You all can decide on how we break that climate tide
and still you remain unconcerned in your pride.

They label us snowflakes,
Undermine our despair
Turn their backs and look elsewhere
But this is just the beginning or our XR protesting
and we will be the snow that saves our icecaps from melting.

Featured image by Maria Eklind. Available on Flickr under Creative Commons 2.0 licence.