An ode to the death of the Hummer SUV brand, which will be shut down by owner General Motors after a potential sale fell through. Sung to the tune of “Masters of War,” with apologies to Bob Dylan:
Masters of Waste
Come you masters of waste
You that build all the trucks
You that build the Humvees
You that suck from the pumps
You that hide behind chrome
You that hide behind glass
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You crush my new bike
Like it’s your little toy
You shine your brights in my eyes
And you ride on my ass
And you turn without signaling
Across the bike path
Like Nixon of old
You lie and deceive
Climate change is a scam
You want me to believe
But I see through your rants
And I don’t read your blogs
You’re all Dittohead
Free-market energy hogs
You make the big tanks
So drivers can splurge
Then you set back and watch
While the pump prices surge
You hide in your mansion
As Middle East crude
Is pumped from the ground
And from tailpipes spewed
You’ve sown the worst fear
That dare leave its mark
Fear to take children
On their bikes to the park
For threatening my baby
In her favorite stroller
You ain’t worth the latte
That’s in your cup holder
How much do I know
To trash-talk Humvees
You might say that I’m red
That I like to hug trees
But there’s one thing I know
That I’m greener than you
Even Jesus would never
Roll the way that you do
Let me ask you one question
Did your SUV need
To be such a symbol
Of unfettered greed
I think you will find
When transmissions fail
You could take a bus
Or even light rail
And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow the wrecker
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re winched
Onto the flatbed
And I’ll stomp on your tailpipe
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead
Image by thelastminute, licensed under Creative Commons.
