We walk around, Pretend we don't see The sickening joke Played out on we Have just a few years of juiced-plump skin Then it slides off; Back to the skeleton Back to the dust. See the walking skeletons.
We're not the living. We're the dying, Looking sicker everyday, After the second decade. Rotting on the vine is not glamourous, But it will be contagious. I'll spoil the home If I've got to go Back to the bone.
First your face cracks. Then, Your hair colour doesn't last. You try to hide in fat (That's just a skeleton gift-wrapped.) You've got an arsenal of creams Fighting dehydrating. If you think you can win Maybe you should squint; Back to the skeleton.
I'm falling from the sky, But on my way down I'm grabbing all life. I'm not going alone. I'll burn the seas, and level some trees. I'll take a species Back to the ground. Not going alone; Back to the bone.