Lyrics

Hey babe, Let’s make a plan
Do we run, do we hide or make a stand
People getting scared
People getting sick
Airs thick as bricks and you know it tastes like shit.
Worlds going to hell and it’s all out of our hands.
I want to be your apocalypse man.

Clay lions,
plastic flowers.
Sitting in wait,
waiting for hours.
Smokey showers
Makes it all go away
That’s something
poets used to say.

Hey babe, Let’s make a plan
Do we run, do we hide or make a stand
People getting scared
People getting sick
Airs thick as bricks and you know it tastes like shit.
Worlds going to hell and it’s all out of our hands.
I want to be your apocalypse man.

A locust is a cricket
If you look at just one
Make them a million
And your crops are all done
A sparks all you need
To burn down a home
Don’t put so much
into the things that you own.

People getting sick
Airs thick as bricks and you know it tastes like shit.
Worlds going to hell and it’s all out of our hands.
I want to be your apocalypse man.