Floodwaters

I was wading through the floodwaters. You were waiting out 
a drought. Do I have that kind of love? Is that what it 
would take to see this out? Hold your empty disemboweled 
gas tanks up high. Turn them into a bong or a still… 
Lotting through the gas stations, tilling up our backyards…
 That's my rosy picture of the end times, my friend.

Bodies crumble about as fast as a house in the sub, and 
what you leave behind is an un-corporeal monument of time -
 whether by needle, your own hands, war, an empty belly, 
bus, or bug…

… We all go seperate and together. As such, while I'm 
alive, show me love!