The population has greatly decreased
So the odds are greatly increased
That one day I'll get a chance
To kiss your lips
Each night I thank the Lord
For the apocalypse
People are mostly disfigured and dead
But I won't let it go to my head
My mama's face has run down to the dirt
But I'm still chasing chitterlings, whiskey, and skirt
I meant to set your world on fire
Didn't mean to set the world on fire
I let the cities burn
And we're all alone, I've come to grips
Each night I thank the Lord
For the apocalypse
The population has greatly decreased
So the odds are greatly increased
That one day I'll get a chance
To kiss your lips
Each night I thank the Lord
For the apocalypse