Lyrics
Cracks show in weathered stone
Moss grows, bugs roam
And I fold my clothes
I pick up the phone
Life carries on
But don't you feel like
We're running out of time?
Fear plays on the radio
The weather forecast looks grim
And we're on our own
Oh we're all alone
So we get along
But don't you feel like
We're trying to hide?
From all of this
Pointless strife
Apocalypse
Of our own divine
You and I were promised
A little life
But it wasn't our time