Today We Fly Between The Edge Of The Earth And Where You Want To Be
Our days are numbered. This world is decrepit (and falling apart).
The signs are here, plagues and disasters (it's been predicted),
the end is near.
We stand unprotected from what lies ahead.
There's no shelter to hide us from what's to come.
We cannot comprehend what we cannot control.
It's difficult to wrap our minds around the inevitable.
The face of our only home will be nothing more than
dust and bone (we're out of time)
dust and bone (these are our last days).
The ignorance of the sleeping world will destroy us all
before we know (we're out of time)
before we know (these are our last days).
Fire will fall from the sky (Someone hear our cries)
and the ocean will break (the earth will shake).
Listen to my words (now words are all we have)
these are desperate days.
Prepare the masses, send the distress.
Infection spreads across the land and devours all in its path.
Our backs to the problems that we all have to face,
with every passing second we are counting down the days.
Our minds become trampled by misguided thoughts
as the world around us turns to chaos and rot.
A whirlwind of devastation takes us up in its plot
of man versus man in an endless onslaught.
We're losing our logic, clear thinking is clouded.
Our blood boils hot with no sign of stopping.
The mushroom cloud will rise, into the baron sky
and swallow everything so the sun can never rise.
We're thrown into a war, against the unknown.
The innocent will burn, their screams will echo.
What cracks and crumbles, falters and fails,
will be again in another form.
The end of everything will then signify
the time for rebirth.
