When our golden sun creeps behind a clowd
& this cloud smells most subtly of sulphur dioxide
Then I ask the plant manager; please tell me is that necessary?
So please in future turn your filter on
When our golden moon first notices, something's not right here
because the many small fishes all swim on their backs
Then I ask the plant manager; please tell me is that necessary?
So please in future turn your wastewater treatment plant on
When our golden evening star looks at the pine wood
& by means of the bare trees sees, there is something botched up here
then I ask: who is the manager, who is so sick here
Should it continue like that? No thank you!