It will come on a Sunday.
The heat passes by like a storm.
Naked and wet, stretched out on your bed
There is no escaping the warmth.
It will come on a Monday.
The water surges in your home.
Naked and wet, stretched out on your bed,
You’ll drown in your sleep, alone.
It will come on a Tuesday.
The snow freezes you in the dark.
Naked and cold, curled up inside your bed,
You die praying for a spark.
It will come on a Wednesday.
The air poisons you to your soul.
Naked and soiled, choking under your bed,
You’ve finally paid the toll.
It will come on a Thursday.
The screams wake you in the night.
Naked and torn, hiding under your bed,
The winds take you into flight.
It will come tomorrow,
Unless we make amends,
Naked and cold, all alone,
This is the way the world ends.