2050

Seems like we're never gonna make it
And will this present become past
Whispers from when the old world faded
How did it fall so fast?
You are now left here all abandoned,
Hiding from our desperate calls
Your gilded gates decay, all black and crumbling
Now what good are your walls?
See you when they fall
I am the wind falling silent, still blowing though
I am the quiet that you call home
Bleaching your soil and killing your crops I go
I am the quiet that you call home
Look over scorched and arid landscapes
Kings of all that you observe
Victims of your own dying hubris
Golden masters that you served
My tide comes dark and indiscriminate
Solutions can't be bought and sold
Bodies pile and poison all your water
Now what good are your walls?
Seems like we're never going to make it
Seems like we're really gonna die
All is lost! I am Death!
When you discover you can't eat your tech
Spin the webs! Pull the threads!
I am the unraveling of time that you spent
Build the walls! Ignore the calls!
I am the consequence of all that you wrought
Bring them down! I can wait!
I now have all of the time in the world