Tank tops swelter in blazing week;Your sweater's no needed in days of bleak;Keep your eyes in clamoring massed street--They are now fully awakefrom codology of vexing class of slick Cozy moments knocked by shrieking wind;Your senses were trying not to bend;News flaunting children's silence--the hush of how to bear the burdencaused by aided industry of burnin' Greenland's melting billion tons;Penguins should learn to construct home:Thermal's pushing seas to rise all zone--Not what Andra Day want in her song;'Cause what feet want a wet foam? Twenty-thirty to shed billions of gas;Polar bears should dive to surpass;Here comes the experts spitting musts--schemes to avert reckoning blast,but why are we leading nowhere fast?