Slaves to the Blue Gold

The burning sun does cast its rays,

Sends down its heavy heat.

Upon the parched and barren landscape,

Broken by shuffling feet.

…

The burning sands, the lakes of salt,

A desert that's bone dry.

Water held in dams below,

Beneath a cloudless sky.

…

A supposed realm of oil,

The black gold of slavery.

Yet Atacaman gold is blue,

Per Quantum's duplicity.

…

The people struggle to survive,

The sunlight burns their skin.

Parched are throats and dry are eyes,

Hope is running thin.

…

All life requires water,

It's a natural law so cruel.

And yet water's eclipsed by oil,

Black gold, a fossil fuel.

…

Slaves to the new blue gold,

It's all part of Quantum's plan.

As drought, starvation, dehydration,

Seize the Atacaman land.