Surf the Apocalypse - Beastmilk

Our jaded eyes should trip the light like phosphorescent fires

When reapers of the rift pull your name from their bony lips

You better stand up on your grave and surf the apocalypse

Rails laid For Funeral Trains

Another sip of bile again

Heading for the palace of the gutter

Shaking like a quarrel of mothers

Come cry in the wrath of love

Don’t dream of a heaven above

'Til Christ warms his campfire warboots

Let the tongues of a corpse address you!

When reapers of the rift pull your name from their bony lips

You better stand up on your grave and surf the apocalypse

Corpse-rollers on gasmasked goats

Rolling dice on rotten souls

A game of bones and throats

This is how you’re bought and sold

Submerged skull smiles flirt

Perfumes of exhaust fume dirt

Sliding round the atomic wave town

This is the way the shit comes down

Let’s go surfing now

Everybody’s learning how

Let’s go surfing now

Everybody’s learning how