We, the last people of this young world,
Do hereby lay down in thought and word
Our sorrow that these times have come to pass
And that we'd be in a holy fast,
But since we're starving it isn't right
To call holy the end of all the light.

We have ran as far as we can run,
And our planets life is nearly done,
But we can not list all our many crimes:
We would need many human lifetimes
For this is our last piece of paper
And we can not find a single stapler.

- Josh MacLeod (1996)