from Worn to the Weft

On wrath and punishment
Oh God give me a breath of air
I’m quaking in my boots
But my dog is just lying there
Well if he don’t seem worried
I don’t see why I should care
‘Cause he eats, shits, fucks, sleeps
Gets sick, gets buried
Like any other millionaire

Prophets and prophecy
I told you I would meet you here
Let’s turn war into winning
Then we’ll all float up into the air
Well there’s no need for worry
There’s no wonder why we’re here
We’ll just eat, shit, fuck, sleep
Get sick, get buried
‘Cause we’re gonna live forever, yeah.