Present Ruins of civilization
Trains to get to Nowhere
Slightly impressive voice
Want to hear them swear
Bad, Bad Choice

Hungry for Madness
It flashes away all the madness around me
All people struggle, All day
Thoughts like rain in november
Roads that are not signed by rubber anymore.

In my body: decline and gore
My soul is flying over it, it wants to remember
But also Wants to get away for sure
240 years from now
Less rain, less green, less a horror show

We fucked up, we survived, 
we rule it, a hot, hot earth, 
no whale sighs in the dirt, 
the rats wait for us to rot away, 
the rats will rule someday