Conducting From The Grave Hit The Lights... Armageddon's Here
Speculations mean nothing when it comes down to it. You
can assume all you want, but when the sun burns out and
the freeze begins, its going to be that much harder to
pull the words from your lips. The food chain collapses.
Predator becomes prey. Kicking down each other's doors.
Smashing every dream of your little suburbia. This world
is in ruins, and drowning has become our daydream. Scream
all you want but no one will listen. Words are sharp when
spoken through broken teeth. This land will smother your
voice of reason until every thought of freewill is choked
from your mind. Its time to end this white noise and
begin with our collapse. Rot is very becoming on you.
Each day the sky comes closer to crushing our landscapes.
The horizon painted in the glow of sunsets and darkened
by the plagues. So lock your windows and doors, hit the
lights, Armageddon's here. We have a front row seat to
the end. So lock your doors.
