First you take that shovel
Put it to the ground
Dig deep boy, deeper still
Until you hear that clanking sound

Get that ore into the sack
Bring it back to your commanding chief
For every pound of Cobalt dug
He’d give a few more grams to sniff

Then up your nose and back again
For the next sack to be filled
It takes a hundred trips or more
To get a single battery built

==

Commanding cheif will pass it on
Until it reaches chinese shores
To a working camp for the poor
Sweating hours on the floor

They’ll form and mold it to the specs
Of a gayish californian cat
Into a slicker alumni case
And sanitize it from their breath

The breath they have now for not long
As lungs become all crammed for space
To hold the chemicals of bond and gloss
Magnificent devices they do make

==

Then on the stage will come a god
For audience of thousand cheers
All neatly dressed and Ion rich
Their bellies full of sprouts and bear

“Supply control, humane approach”
The slogans they’ll reveal
While gazing blankly at the men
Seas and borders attempting still

A longer life, a faster fill
The battery of the future’s here
Indeed a life of fun and thrills
And cheap supply of human will

==

And here I’m writing this
On such a fine machine
While being unplugged for days
An Artisan Cobalt Dream

A longer life, a faster fill
The battery of the future’s here
Indeed a life of fun and thrills
And cheap supply of human will