It Feels Like The Apocalypse

We saw their flesh rotting Their bones turning to clay He said: it's the apocalypse I said: just a play We walked on the rubble Of the Tower of Babel He said: we'll be history I said: just a fable Yet I find myself shuddering At the syncopated tune Of my own breath Death is a thought I can ignore No more My friend was no idiot And to me, this was clear He just asked me in my dispassion To comprehend his fear My friend transmuted hearts Made of lead into gold While I just conjured demons For fear of getting old Now I find myself shuddering At the syncopated tune Of my own breath Death is a thought I can ignore No more The last time I saw him He'd been tied up in chains They had shattered his head They had trodden on his brain The last time I heard of him I was wrapped up in shame I groaned, it was agony And I cried out his name So I find myself shuddering At the syncopated tune Of my own breath Death is a thought I can ignore No more