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Enemy of the Sun
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Sky Shooting Stars
The fiction is that we'll get
Through this mess,
That we somehow distress ourselves.
Everybody knows,
Hope turns to cynicism.
Were helpless more and more.
Apocalypse,
Timer set to 5-minute warning running out.
Sky shooting stars,
Wish before they hit the ground.
No speed limits,
We'll get there before noon,
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To shape a nice new moon.
No need to fear,
No time to feel or regret,
Indeed we were mislead...
Apocalypse,
Timer set to 5-minute warning running out.
Make it right this time...
Raining dead poetry,
(It) started raining dead poetry...
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