It’s the end of the world again but who cares anymore?
We’re too busy enjoying the time we have left.
There’s a war brewing and it’s getting closer
but the bombs don’t **** us, we dance in the shrapnel,
the metal’s already in our blood.

It’s the end of the world again but we’re too busy singing
songs of a time where we were safe in our homes.
We’re drinking beer and laughing at good times,
the ones that have been and gone
and the ones we have yet to have.

It’s the end of the world again but the fighting means nothing.
Bullets sing “Revolution!” in the air
as they buzz like ******* flies by our ears.
Let the idiots **** themselves and rejoice
in the fact that we are better than them,
howling under the watchful eyes of a blood moon.