The patron Saint of the Extinct

Without this atmosphere

filled with oxygen

I would probably die.

Living things grow to fill the area they occupy

someday someone will find our bones

and reconstruct our lives

We will become primitive we will become the past.

Things aren’t built to last

forever

It’s only natural

It’s only natural.

It’s okay

It’s always been this way

Without this atmosphere

Filled with oxygen

I would probably die

Living things grow to fill the area they occupy

Someday someone will find our bones

And reconstruct our lives

I hope I’m laying close to you

when the meteor hits

So we can spend forever

in a museum exhibit.

Wouldn’t that be splendid

Wouldn’t that be fine.

Together forever

until the next end of time.