I keep dreaming about the end of the world.
The end is nothing grand,
Just the slow dwindling
As people disappear
And a once bustling hub
Is reduced to echoes and tears
As those who remain behind
Choose how they will spend
Their certain final days.
I keep dreaming about the end of the world.
The end is nothing grand,
Just the slow dwindling
As people disappear
And a once bustling hub
Is reduced to echoes and tears
As those who remain behind
Choose how they will spend
Their certain final days.