A cluster of tubes calls to me spewing
Thick smog like sweet perfume for the rich
Dozens of lives make up the mind
While under the guise of a blue sky
Something waits behind...

Listen for the barking dogs
Look for the woman with the crown of stars
Wormwood falls in the presence of God
Blessed are the dead, gnawing their tongues
Let me play your prophet, girl
Let's take our lives before the end of the world
I can't seem to forget the taste of
Angels and their golden waste

The fungus grows and turns to stone
Reminding me of what I owe
A white dress flows
Covered in burn holes
It's true, a corpse is best left alone

The end is nigh

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