| They say Mother Earth is dying
|
| I don’t see it quite that way
|
| As she spits out massive hurricanes
|
| To wash us all away
|
| And as she starts to tire
|
| Of parasitic man
|
| She’ll rattle up some earthquakes
|
| To grind us into sand
|
| And when the magma flows
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| Across the terra floor
|
| She’ll orbit gently laughing
|
| 'Til we are all no more, 'til we are all no more
|
| Life fleas on the back of a dog
|
| Eventually we’ll be shaken off
|
| Life fleas on the back of a dog
|
| Eventually we’ll be shaken off
|
| Life fleas on the back of a dog
|
| Eventually we’ll be shaken off
|
| Life fleas on the back of a dog
|
| Eventually we’ll be shaken off
|
| Life fleas on the back of a dog
|
| Eventually we’ll be shaken off
|
| They say Mother Earth is dying
|
| I don’t see it quite that way
|
| As she spits out massive hurricanes
|
| To wash us all away
|
| Like fleas |