Abney Park - Increased Chances The Apocalypse

The population is greatly decreased. ** And now the odds are greatly increased. ** That i may someday get a chance, ** To kiss your lips. ** I thank the Lord each day, ** For the apocalypse. ** ** Folks are mostly disfigured or dead ** But, sugar, i wont let it go to my head. ** My mama's face has dripped down into the dirt. ** ** But i'm still chasin' chitlins, whiskey and skirt