cataclysm

(album: raps on ameba beats - 2016)

If somehow scientists proclaim they see the apocalypse approaching
I would buy a box of tissues, Oculus, and lots of lotion
And just lock myself indoors, I'd build a bunker out of blankets,
A fallout shelter out of sofa cushions, cook a bunch of pancakes,
While I thunk about my grandkids
I'd prolly have to forage lunch
Or have a bran of storage porridge and a can of orange chunks
Until I reached a shortage, then if I hungered for a banquet
I'd make cocktails, mostly molotov
And waltz on over to a wal-mart with my martyr-like martini bombs and wall it off
So I could have the whole place to myself
I'd stop and start to crop apart the shopping carts
And fashion pitchforks from the bars until I felt a sense of self-defense
I'd meld a fence around the produce sector and I wouldn't have to spend a cent,
I'd set up tents in electronics and wouldn't have to send the rent,
Instead of panicking, I'd marshal mannequins, pretend they're friends
And host a massive slumber party in the "home and bedding" end
Cause all I need to be content, is room and board and solid food
If I end up the last on Earth, then I'd adore the solitude
And I don't mean to sound too rude, I just don't really find it strange
That I don't care the way we go, whether it's war or climate change
Atomic bombs or comet craters, hordes of zombie space invaders,
Angels singing psalms while Satan's satyrs crack through the equator
Either way we're gone, and I don't feel the need to lift the rug
If I can spend my final moments happy, I don't give a fuck
I'd do my best to reconstruct tho, if let's say the apocalypse
Caused major drops in populace and hit New York's metropolis
I'd obligate myself to help me congregate the boroughs,
Add some zeroes to the census bureau's copy room materials,
I'd even copulate with girls to help repopulate the world
Cause that would be my duty
Maybe I'd do what Jehovah would
And go for broke and build an ark of fifty cubits gopherwood
But leave the termites out cause surely that would not go over good
If I knew the world was ending
I'd start texting all my exes
And fuck ourselves to death until Jesus resurrects us
And the trumpets say it's judgement day

... and I haven't thought that any further
I'm probably fucked