We deployed in annoying cloying defenseless staggering hordes
We advanced unencumbered and free
We ran out of grenades
All the lamps on the 405 were knocked out
It was freezing and no one could see
Hold up! Hold up!
Our rent's not paid, and all Westwood's on lockdown
Med center generator's out
There's no honor in striking the wind
Blowing isotopes on the harbor freeway
To win the short-term fight
Would form counter-productive debris
"Hold up!" the congregation sang
"Revival! Hosanna!
We have no systems left to shock
And we're awestruck!
Raise your hands
Because there's hope
That we'll hold them back at La Brea
Where we can cope
And attend to an influx of new refugees from the war!"
Hold up! Hold up! Alarming ping
And aplastic anemia
Held your shoulders down
Your girlfriend laughs
At the tag on your sleeve