Bad Science Fiction
© Greg Keeler 1987

What's Left of the West

Manifest destiny ain't had a rest,
Ever since Horace Greely said, "Young man go west,"
So we've chewed up the mountains and spit out the plains,
Till we get indigestion with each acid rain.
It's gotten so bad the West ain't any place.
I'll ask ya, "How are ya?" and you stare into space.
What's left of the West's where we've already been.
So Alaska, Hawaii again.

Chorus:
And Honolulu's no lulu. Fairbanks ain't so fair.
Take a sip of the water. Take a whiff of the air.
Take some pictures of the wildlife. Take a leak in the stream.
Take a jet back to Cleveland and dream.

If trees went to congress, and forests could vote,
Our chances of survival might not be so remote,
But since we don't give a damn as to who they'd elect,
Their absentee ballots are the greenhouse effect.
What's a boatload of timber? What's the whole human race?
I'll ask ya, "How are ya?" and you stare into space.
What's left of the West's where we've already been.
So Alaska, Hawaii again.

Chorus

We scrub up with phosphates then flush down the suds
Till the banks of our rivers are bubbles and mud.
Just to stay sanitary, we've gone to these lengths.
Now our whole eco-system's industrial strength.
It's so simple to screw up what can't be replaced.
I'll ask ya, "How are ya?" and you stare into space.
What's left of the West's where we've already been.
So Alaska, Hawaii again.

Chorus