The Five Stages of Petroleum Processing I only care to spend the evening at the Suncor grieving in my folding chair Watching the blood of Alberta flow through metal veins and boil into the air I can feel her right beside me, whistling like she isn't even gone Big rigs moaning up above us, glowing towers staring down the dawn Her benzene eyes She said the poison makes it more fun I don't know why This metropolis eats its young I-270 nights Oh, the beauty My refinery lights Oh, the beauty Her parents never liked us hanging out in Commerce City watching how We turn past life into fuel for the future then burn the future for right now So I'm not welcome at some ceremony where their phony pastor lights a flame It's cool, I guess, I understand their anger, we all want someone to blame I saw the autopsy Some sort of fungus of the lung Such a tragedy This metropolis eats its young I-270 nights Oh, the beauty My refinery lights Oh, the beauty This obituary, sickening toxic vapors, Her duffle bag of canisters and papers, A brief article on tar sands from the Wall Street Journal Grief is fleeting but all that carbon is eternal We burn the dead The worst criminals never get hung Copper, steel, and lead This metropolis eats its young I-270 nights Oh, the beauty My refinery lights Oh, the beauty