"These piano keys are out of order."
As she presses buttons on this jukebox disaster.
Death walks in wearing distress around his neck.
In the form of a black tie bazooka.
Engraved is a butterfly on his hand...
He walks thru the crowd and makes requests to the band.
Playing poker in the corner is that menagerie of cabaret.
It's the four horsemen of the apocalypse versus the republican party!
And at the bar are the shadowy figures staring into your soul…
While you put down the remote control and walk back to your…
Very own black hole.

Yeah, yeah!
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Sound the alarm and send him a blank check!

Should we shake our luck again?
Take in that dead oxygen!
Well, should we shake hands with our friends?
Walking thru the forest like a unicorn mannequin
Why don't we burn our friendships like warships?
Should we create another color for our sisters and our brothers?
Let's lick the asphalt grave.
"One day…we'll all be enslaved!"

Yeah, yeah!
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Death wears piano keys around his neck.
Sound the alarm and send him a blank check!

Write us off…we're in for stormy weather.
There's a black suitcase in the bomb shelter…
With your name written in all caps.
A beacon for the rose pedals and ash that will fall…
From the galaxy.
They're decaying and the branches are stabbing little
Holes in the homes of the neon panthers!
They beg of you…
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…
"We're decaying…"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…
"Is the future worth saving?"