Head for the Hills - Black Map

Smoke spills on a sky of lead

I feel like it’s all coming down

If some chemicals could take us away

Have some clarity

And a hex on anything green

Search for escape, but haze lines the way

In one could we4 disappear

In all of this fevered mess

But I’m lost in at best

In machines that make machines that make machines

So

We head for the hills

Far from where chaos lives

Such a feeling

That this is all decay

we know that we can’t stay

In machines that make machines that make machines

So

We head for the hills

Far from where chaos lives

Such a feeling

That this is all decay

We know that we can’t stay