The increasing mass of people
Army of fortunetellers
The hoards of philosophers
From elite to commoners
Have talked about
Or predicted the end of the future
Riding on a beam
Among the dusk
Including prophets and intellectuals
To the lone bearded man
On the city street corner
Holding a sign instead of a book
The end is near
Astrologically that is true
The end of what, just us
Is that really the end?
The universe will shed no tears
It will not even notice
The end is ours
Belongs to us alone
New life begins
The birth of countless predictions
Why the latest one
Better then the last
Only the end
Will tell
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