Have you seen The latest version of the termite queen? Her eyes so very green, Her lips every color in between, And she dines on aging oak To fuel the fire she's born to stoke To give some rise to you, Oh Lord, I've seen it too Oh
The ghost I cannot see Sits on me when I try to breathe, I am the last beneficiary Of every decision being made for me, Cause a time here on this earth Should be spent building on net worth And sharing nothing, And going nowhere, My story is the oldest one that's told, Why worry ‒ when you die you stop getting old Oh...
Oh...
We are witnessing The final days of the termite queen And the final song she sings, Its beauty masking what it means, She rattles and she moans, We all surrounded by her drones Who mistake our flesh for wood, Oh Lord, this isn't good, Oh my story is the oldest one that's told, Why worry ‒ when you die you stop getting old Oh...