Oil

This one that I need, he's a fickle lover
When he goes down, ooh, he makes me shudder
I love it when he's low like that
But when he comes back up, he just runs me raw
And I can't take it, but I keep coming back for more.
This fickle lover at my door?
Gas prices.
I thought I had him beat.
Trying to walk, bike, anything to stay out of the
driver's seat
And when we meet, I never know whether he'll treat
me right
Make me say "ooh yeah" while I fill up on his
juice at night
Or whether he'll bite, take a chunk of change bigger
than I'd like
Leave me feeling cold, taken advantage of
And yet, he says he's not to blame
He's just playing the game, and I believe him
Without my love, no one could conceive him
Born of the fires of too many souls,
burning the deserts dry of their history
He was once in the ground, and before that, was dead
And millions of years before, in another life
He was lush forests, undergrowth, plankton
and dinosaurs
Roaming free on the earth, that great,
green planet
Where humans had thus not been to inhabit
And overpopulate the ground like nymphomaniac
rabbits
Whose only habit was to consume the long-dead
For their Jeeps, their private jets
Grand ideas to fill their heads
But nobody said, "What happens when the living begin
to haunt the dead?"
Then we start killing our own, for the ground
and what's below
Until we can go no further, and then who knows
What will happen to our fickle lover.
He only treats us badly because we mistreated him
It's all he knows.
And so, through the blinding snow I begrudge him
a little more dough today
And wonder how long we can hide under the covers,
hoping he never goes away.