Before the comet came,
we knew our names and went to parties Now all we ever know is fear of open ground
And they will rue the day, rue the time they tried to harm you
The barricading's done, let's fortify the stairs.
Why, why are the machines so sad?
Why must they exact such terrible revenge upon the small?
Look at all the things we had,
picnics in the sun
Your favourite dress won't show beneath a spacesuit.
On every water run,
the bleeding sun beats down our resolve
Down in the broken parks,
the bartering begins.
Another neighbour down,
our stinking town relies on slavery,
But I won't sell you for, a million cans of fuel.
Why, why are the machines so sad?
Why must they exact such terrible revenge upon the small?
Look at all the things we had,
picnics in the sun
Your favourite dress won't show beneath a spacesuit.
Should've known the neighbours would try to find you,
We're holed up in the attic, trying to hide our sister and brotherly love...
(It's not so bad)