Clouds are gray but the stream is yellow.
Brooklyn’s finest, a vertical fellow.
Bio-hacker in a brownstone, claimin’ he’s the green king,
Patented a rhythm that the sewer pipes can’t even sing.
He called it 'Hydro-Logic Flow,' a gravity-defyin’ feat,
While the neighbors down on Willoughby were ducking on the street.
No carbon footprint, just a zipper and a steady aim,
Turning local agriculture into a public hall of shame.
Oh, it’s raining in the borough, but the sky is perfectly clear,
That organic irrigation is the flavor of the year.
He’s a rooftop revolutionary, watering the vine,
Turning tap water into vintage Brooklyn 'wine.'
Don't look up, just keep walking fast.
Sustainable drainage that’s built to last.
One man’s waste is another man’s...
Gravity’s a snitch when you’re wearing a birthday suit.
Yeah, real eco-conscious of you, Steve.
The tomatoes look great, but the sidewalk smells like a bus station.
Stop 'irrigating' the mailman.
