Pumpkinhead - Anthem For The End Of The World lyrics
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(feat. Chas, Jean Grae) [Chorus: Chas - sung] It's the anthem, for the end, of the worrrrrld It's the anthem, for the end, of the worrrrrld [Pumpkinhead:] The Pope died, Jesus cried Tsunamis take lives, realize Look, look in my eyes, and see the sky A blood red color, as angels hover Over, Babylon, we suffer Cause we don't live right, and we don't see light And we don't live life, we destroy it With pollution, guns drugs abortions, too many coffins Too many orphans, too many coughin from sickness Manmade illness, since polio and rickets AIDS cancer Ebola, and black plague Transmitted, through mice and pigeons I know, I know my life I'm livin with wife and children I know my rights I'm given ain't righteous livin A blind man sees the horns of a demon Inside the uterus the innocence developed by Satan's semen [Chorus] [Jean Grae:] The skies crack open and the fire rains down With angels back broken and black snow And a man in a black cloak and then everything goes black Smokin everyone soon chokes and collapse slow y'know It's not the hell inscriptions we read in the writings We believin in God and death that was free 'til we biting the hand that feeds us Praying to Jesus for saving us heathens When we could just rescue ourselves from the demons Lookin to dollar lotto to bring us from poverty Look at Colorado killings, Wal*Mart monopoly Sadly, takes catastrophes to bring us closer And man, working class man is sewn up Cold Crush the grown-ups feel, and Bush is finger fuckin us Hard to see past the tricks in front of us, the cover-ups And so we covered lust after a couple of bucks And the tragedy, of humanity, keeps fuckin up [Chorus] [Pumpkinhead:] Born in the dark of the night, Rosemary verse A baby boy, to George Bush the Anti-Christ It's the end as we know it, predicted in paintings of Mary Magdelene, DaVinci Coded, open the third eye of this poet, point noted, so keep flossin Spendin money on frozen jewelry Hoes and jury payoffs, you're way off, die in your car While I ride Jimi Hendrix flyin guitar for the stars [Jean Grae:] Stars well we look to 'em distracted Probably piss poor and thinkin 'bout some shit actors Instead of shit that matters we're stricken inactive Capitalism captive trapped in a prison in shackles And of course we never see the world for really how it is The genocide, the pestilence, the pessimissim lives Inside of us they wired us to be numb to the facts The world already ended, we never gon' get it back [Chorus]
