Beastmilk - Surf The Apocalypse

When the sun ignites the boggy swamp ( in which our bodies lie)
our jaded eyes should trip the light like phosphrescent fires
When reapers of the rift pull your name from their boney 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 addres you!

When reapers of the rift pull your name from their boney 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