The sun turns black Like sack cloth made of goat hair. The whole moon Turns blind red And stars fall down to Earth. The smell of rot Is creeping through the hot air. Time has come to end All happiness and mirth. And the preacher says: "Run. Run, run. Everybody run." So run, run. Run, run. Everybody run. Locusts Come down upon the Earth now. Like horses with wings, And with brass blades made for war. Torturing, No matter whom or how, With stings of scorpions And tooth of dinosaurs. And the preacher says: "Run. Oh run, run. Everybody run." So run, run. Run, run. Oh everybody run. Run for your lives now everybody! So run, run. Run, run. Oh everybody run. Run, run. Oh run, run. Oh everybody run. Run, run. Oh run, run. Oh everybody run.