Did you see the bodies washed up on the shore?
No my twisted neon eyes don’t recognize a thing anymore.
Did you smell the way the blood stained the beach?
No all my senses are under lock and key
Every song is a war declared
Every chord is a drone flying through the air
I gently remove my black shroud
And I meet my love on a mushroom cloud
Every song sings like soldiers brawling
Every chord is a bomb falling
Oh my Love please take me there
And we can suffocate in the bombed out air
Did you see that girl at the end? She walked out of reality and straight into my nightmare. Every last thought is of control. Every last thought is of power. Every last thought is of ownership. Every last thought is of subliminal messages to send. Did you see that girl at the end?
Every song is a war declared
Every chord is a drone flying through the air
I gently remove my black shroud
And I meet my love on a mushroom cloud
Every song sings like soldiers brawling
Every chord is a bomb falling
Oh my Love please take me there
And we can suffocate in the bombed out air
Dig me a grave and I’ll throw in all my hate
Let my life be the dirt and my heart be the spade
Let the stone be still born love notes I never should have saved
Dig me a grave. Dig me a grave.
I’m carried out to Eden on Fukushima waves
Let the water cleanse my cancerous brain
Am I deranged? Am I insane?
Oh Lord, please save this place
So dig me a grave for all my regrets
Let my sorrow be the coffin and let my future be the guests
Let the reception split the sky with resounding happiness
Dig me a grave and let my heart do the rest
At 6 PM we heard the news. They wouldn’t be able to stop the impending meltdown. First the fish will die and the water will turn a sickly green and slowly the radiation will creep up the land and into our homes and into our lives and into our bones.
I’m carried out to Eden on Fukushima waves
Let the water cleanse my cancerous brain
Am I deranged? Am I insane?
Oh Lord, please save this place
I heard it on the radio
It was the sound of airplanes crashing
It was the sound of machine guns blasting
It was the sound of smokestacks crumbling
It was the sound of tanks rumbling
It was the sound of glossed out pop rock magazines
It was the sound of teenage rockstar dreams
It was the sound of masculine sex fantasies
It was the sound of dying spiritual mysteries
When the trees started to die we knew that we were wrong
The heat boils the ocean as it creeps along
Reactors are melting with the whistle of a swan song
And the radio plays on

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