Would nice terrestrials stay and play?
Were we to leave for outer space
Who'd stand and say we're in disgrace?
Fish don't know its paradoxic
Waste is food and food is toxic
No birds there be, or bees, or trees
Who realize we spread disease
We'd like to say with deep remorse
We're very sorry, yes of course
But where's the mailbox on the moon
To send the Earth a Get-Well-Soon?
To tenderize a tough old bird
Just cook her longer, so I’ve heard
But like revenge, or so I’m told
The Earth is better eaten cold.