Fuel needs oil
Released from soil,
Aerated,
Cocktail fed,
Kicked loose, unearthed,
Inching towards worth,
Not buried below
Ground – no show.
“Frack the oil!
Roots won’t boil!”
Argues our cash,
Chugged in a flash,
Kissed goodbye,
In the blink of an eye,
Nodding silently,
Grimacing, “Frack me.”