Qwel & Jackson Jones
Dark Day (Plague of Nations)
[Verse 1]
Who can stand before Yah, lobbing Cali at the ocean
Coast a clearing, hear it close, hold it fast, she lacks devotion
Though she acts mad, ol' fag it up and had it up to roses
Pad her pretty grave, the gypsy slave cackles at the notion
Save the wine, broken city scape, the windy plagued with locusts
Smoking furnace, burn it down, highest tower made the lowest
Hoing slizzy flitty flake too busy making dough to notice
Bloated kitties fishy graves, this shitty lake a overflowing
Coal and hail upon the Babel apple, magma that floats it
Molten glass and plastic tabernacles scattering roaches
Packs of squealing running rats, ducking locust approaching
Below the darkened sky, the harlot cries, gargling ocean
A swarm of flies through the London sky, the coming rushing tide
Shine the lust of her blister clusters, flush her rusted pride
Gushing eyes, arising dust, flood arriving just in time
For the lice to hike the channel, and the mice to wonder why

[Refrain]
For all the neon and x-mas trees
Disease and the Freon, and next best things
To all the kings and their peons and excess fiends
Better check what y'all be on or expect these, rubberduckies
For all the neon and neon and x-mas trees
Diseases and the Freon, and next best things
To all the kings and their peons and excess fiends
Better check what y'all be on or expect these, rubberducks
[Verse 2]
But who can stand before Christ, plague of lice upon Paris
Kerosene rain lighting ignite that wind she inherits
To flare the decadence she wears singe the hair of the ferret
Her marriage in ash, double edged flaming sword, who can bear it?
Save the oil with a plague of flaming boils upon Rome
Quaking crust to touch her lust, outweigh the spoils of her pope
Her royalty choked with smoke and the soil she emotes
Her blasphemy wrapped in Latin speak, turmoil she wrote
Do-se-doh upon Tokyo, strings in Beijing
For all the carnivals in Brazil and the places we sing
The barbie dolls Mardi Gras and oddly shaking for beads
Daddy's little heathen freaking Cancun and breaking for spring
Who can stand before the Spirit smiling, hear it in silence
Pray to see the second coming daily, end this asylum
Ain't a thing to be afraid of, ask the blessed few that'll find Him
The heathen screaming peace while the flaming sword'll divide em

[Refrain]