Prophecies (Almost Over) - Motograter

New plague, getting paid, everyone is guilty

Taxes on the lotto, water’s gotten filthy

Psychos, weirdos, percocet and morphine

Little imperfections cost us all, cost us all

I saw a missile filled with frightened people

Crashing down, into a ball of flames

Something tells me it’s almost over

Someone tell them it’s almost over

Slave camps, last dance, billion dollar mishaps

Bombshells, nitro, anything that you can throw

Housewives, onion rings, AOL and crashing planes

Second rate therapy, everybodies crazy

I saw a black cloud above the forest

Wiping clean till nothing else remained

Something tells me it’s almost over

Somone tell them it’s almost over

Makes me sick to know that it’s your fault

Makes me sick to makes that it’s you

Makes me sick to know that it’s your fault

Makes me sick and it makes me ill

Makes me sick to know that it’s your fault

Makes me sick to makes that it’s you

Makes me sick to know that it’s your fault

Makes me sick and it makes me ill

Monstrous, what we’ve become

Space waste

Brain dumb

Nostradomus prophecies

Welfare

Enemies!

Enemies!

Enemies

Will someone tell them its almost over (Enemies)