There are people running scared and feeling unprepared,
and it’s starting to spread.
Some new catastrophe might lead to tragedy;
now, everyone’s lost his head.
Monarchs and magistrates, they argue and recriminate
as rationale and reason unfurl,
but we’re just a boy and a girl,
and it’s just the end of the world,
so unplug the phone, because nobody’s calling,
except to say that the sky is falling.
Hop in the car, and if the engine doesn’t stall, then,
we’ll take a ride on the rings around Saturn.
We’re out of gas, but out here it doesn’t matter.
We’ll float around where the dust is all scattered,
and when the Earth is in the sky
we’ll blow it one last kiss and say, “Goodbye.”
Maybe Mars finally took shots at Mercury,
and we’ve been hit by a stray.
Maybe it’s finally done; we’ve worn a hole right to the sun,
and we’re all melting away.
Maybe we found a cure; the world’s not ending anymore,
but it’s sure turned a strange shade of gray,
so we’ll take a long holiday,
and cruise the whole Milky Way,
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