That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an
aeroplane, and
Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane, listen to
yourself churn - world
serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs. Feed it off an
aux, speak,
grunt, no strength. The ladder start to clatter with fear, fight
down height.
Wire in a fire, representing seven games and a government for
hire in a combat
site. Left of west and coming in a hurry with the furies
breathing down your
neck. Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered,
cropped. Look at that
low plane! Fine. Then – uh-oh, overflow population, common
food but it'll do,
save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs,
listen to your heart
bleed, dummy with the rapture and the revered in the right.
Right! You
vitriolic, patriotic, slam fight bright-light, feeling pretty
psyched.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!
Six o'clock: TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign towers. Slash
and burn,
return, listen to yourself churn. Locking in, uniforming, book
burning, blood
letting. Every motive escalate. Automode incinerate. Light a
candle, light a
votive. Step down, step down. Watch your heel – crush,
crushed. Uh-oh, this
means no-fear-cavalier, renegade, steer clear! A tournament, a
tournament, a
tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives
and I decline.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!
The other night I dreamt of knives, continental drift divide.
Mountains sit in
a line. Leonard Bernstein, Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and
Lester Bangs.
Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly-bean, boom! You symbiotic,
patriotic,
slam-book neck. Right? Right!
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine... I
feel fine...
(It's time I had some time alone)
compositores: John Michael Stipe, Michael E. Mills, Peter Lawrence Buck, William Thomas Berry
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