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Build us a vehicle |
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Set us a course |
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Pick up your sickle |
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Get on board |
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We're all going on a trip out |
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We're all going on a trip out |
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We're all getting, all getting out |
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Out with the daggers |
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Off with the gloves |
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There is so much |
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That you can loath |
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And I can't stop thinking about it |
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And I can't stop working it out |
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It doesn't come much bigger than this |
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You see a point and you make a wish |
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Everything tragic, take it away |
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One fine day before the apocalypse |
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And I know it's not impossible |
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From a hill top, worn out short grass |
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I don't know how long it can last |
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Up then toward the see saw |
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Up then toward the gibberish |
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Up then toward being a bore |
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Up then toward the apocalypse |
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Build us a vehicle |
|
Set us a course |
|
Pick up your sickle |
|
Get on board |
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Lonely are the brave |
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There is a chance |
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Of happiness |
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Yeah, but it is over so fast |
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And I can't stop thinking about it |
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And I can't stop working it out |
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No la dee da, no picnickers |
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Just party, party in a tweety land |
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How long, how long, how long? |
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One fine day before the apocalypse |
|
And I know it's not impossible |
|
From a hill top, worn out short grass |
|
I don't know how long it can last |
|
Up then toward the see saw |
|
Up then toward the gibberish |
|
Up then toward being a bore |
|
Up then toward the apocalypse |
