Imagine there was no more oil, and I don’t mean olive I mean the type of oil where the B.P. spill is. The kind of oil they drill into earth’s crust for The kind they drill the land and the seas for The kind that got Alfayed his Harrods The kind they go to war and presidents vanish The kind that couldn’t heat your house when it’s colder We all want to go back to Ethiopia But we all couldn’t get there Cause no cars, no trains, no planes would be running.

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