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Digger Barnes
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Everybody Run
The sun turns black
like sack cloth made of goat hair.
The whole moon
turns blind red
and stars fall down to Earth.
The smell of rot
is creeping through the hot air.
Time has come to end
all happiness and mirth.
And the preacher says:
'Run.
Run, run.
Everybody run.'
So run, run.
Run, run.
Everybody run.
Locusts
come down upon the Earth now.
Like horses with wings,
and with brass blades made for war.
Torturing,
no matter whom or how,
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with stings of scorpions
and tooth of dinosaurs.
And the preacher says:
'Run.
Oh run, run.
Everybody run.'
So run, run.
Run, run.
Oh everybody run.
Run for your lives now everybody!
So run, run.
Run, run.
Oh everybody run.
Run, run.
Oh run, run.
Oh everybody run.
Run, run.
Oh run, run.
Oh everybody run.
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