Man is wolf to man
Spent an artificial winter
in a sleeper cell, sleeping in the car
I'm not yet quite myself
Tripping off the continental shelf
The mothership occultists at the door
We're taking off
Come on, we're coming home
The worst place in the world
Survive crash landing
You limp away laughing
The universe conspires
Turns out like you planned it
Get your Westboro Baptist Federation of Planets
Scumbags, you can have it
I hope you crash the goddamn whole thing into the sun
All the tides in motion
Until the mountains are molten
Until the Nassau Coliseum is at the bottom of the ocean
Sailing on
Your Westboro Baptist generation of fascists
Scumbags, you can have it
I hope you crash the goddamn planet into the sun