The White Death

It spits a thousand flowers from it faces
Crystal melting on my eyes
Blurry visions of a future
More desolate and bleak than the last

Nuclear Winter
Oh so quiet
Nuclear Winter
You're so silent

Round and round, no break in the clouds
Endless fog coming with the tides
Pictures of merry-go-round on postcards
Pictures of places that didn't last

Nuclear Winter
Oh so quiet
Nuclear Winter
You're so silent

Rocks, trees, earth and spit
Layered with hazy prints and marks
Soon the trip will be over
And I will continue on the merry-go-round

Nuclear Winter
Oh so quiet
Nuclear Winter
You're so silent

It spits a thousand flowers from it faces
Crystal melting on my eyes
Blurry visions of a future
More desolate and bleak than the last