Death may come invisible or in a holy wall of fire,
In the breath between the markers on some black I-80 mile,
From the madness of the governments to the vengeance of the sea,
Everything is eclipsed by the shape of destiny..

So love me now.
Hell is coming.
Kiss my mouth.
Hell is here.

Little soldier, little insect, you know war it has no heart.
It will kill you in the sunshine or happily in the dark,
Where kindness is a card game or a bent-up cigarette,
In the trenches, in the hard rain, with a bullet and a bit.

He says, "Help me out."
Hell is coming.
Could you do it now?
Hell is here.

See the sterile soil,
Poisoned sky,
Yellow water,
Final scraps of life,
Bringing new tears.

Wake, Baby, wake, but leave that blanket around you.
There is no where as safe.
I'm leaving this place but there is nothing I'm planning to take.
Just you.
Just you.