Soak up the sun
Have some fun
The End Times are here
Crack open a beer
The rent’s past due
No one to sue
The body is cold
It was foretold
Morals, gone
Values, none
Turn off the light
Time for a smite
How will it go
The theater and show
The Host decides
Who lives, who dies
Expire by fire
Arson for hire
Drown in the sea
No better for me
Not depressed
Or hexed or stressed
Accepted the mess
The Good Lord has blessed
Maybe heaven
Ideally seven
Maybe hell
Easy to sell
Mayan’s ain’t lying
Ain’t even tryin’
Nostradamus is right
How can we fight?
Let it be quick
Don’t wanna be sick
A ringside seat
A meet and greet
Ride the wave
Nothing to stave
The End Times are here
For all a good cheer!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem