Conducting From the Grave Follow

Speculations mean nothing when it comes down to it.
You can assume all you want, but when the sun burns out and the freeze begins, its going to be that much harder to pull the words from your lips.
The food chain collapses.
Predator becomes prey.
Kicking down each other's doors.
Smashing every dream of your little suburbia.
This world is in ruins, and drowning has become our daydream.
Scream all you want but no one will listen.
Words are sharp when spoken through broken teeth.
This land will smother your voice of reason until every thought of freewill is choked from your mind.
Its time to end this white noise and begin with our collapse.
Rot is very becoming on you.
Each day the sky comes closer to crushing our landscapes.
The horizon painted in the glow of sunsets and darkened by the plagues.
So lock your windows and doors, hit the lights, Armageddon's here.
We have a front row seat to the end.
So lock your doors.