Heat and Stuff

When you’re walking on the turf,

Despite the blazing sun,

You skip along in barefoot mirth,

Your feet are free to walk, or run.

Regardless of how fast you trot,

Eventually, you’ll come to rock,

Or steel or black top, scorching hot,

From where you’ll need a shoe and sock.

Now each of these materials,

Are in the sun all day,

I only though, get blistered heels,

On hottest asphalt when I play.

Why don’t I get the same reaction,

When I’m standing on the grass?...

...Because from grass there’s strong reflection,

Of Infra Red, which burns your arse.

A bunch of stuff absorbs these rays,

And heats up from inside,

There’s other stuff, though sits for days,

In brightest sun, won’t burn your hide.

You already know this fact, as just the other day,

You stepped around that manhole in the street…

It’s metal lid was hot enough to cook a poffertje,

And you had just ducked out, so you had nothing on your feet.

So you already know that some things, hold onto the heat,

If you didn’t, then you would be, very very sore.

So how do you explain to me the intellectual feat,

Of believing, that the laws of physics, don’t work any more?...

...That the gases of our atmosphere, all made of matter too,

Are somehow not beholden to the sway of nature’s law?

Measured facts can not be labeled merely points of view,

There are warnings, and there’s consequences, for the ones that we ignore.

If you put, more of the stuff, that traps the heat, into a mix,

The result, and fair enough, is that the mix, then slowly warms.

The atmosphere is such a mix, and once it’s broke we’ll never fix

The systems that drive planetary functions in all forms.

So when you see some muppet, going on in expert style,

And saying that the science, of global warming is not done,

Just sit two blocks, of wood and steel, outside, for just a while,

Then ask on which he’d sit, his budgie smuggler covered bum.