The lightning is coming- Beware, beware

Standing on your quilt of dirt
Paying respects to that granite slab
An insult to all you stood for
All of your vivacious colours now mellowed  
Into the shade of a stormy sky
The lightning is coming- beware, beware
Saluting my spade of silver metal

With seventy times seven claps from the heavens
Forgive me Jesus, God, and any of the others
That claim they exist in this sphere of catastrophe
My bruised feet run a path to hell
The truth is out to get you, his sharp teeth drawn  
Ready to pounce on the unsuspecting, viciously biting
Now the dead will come out to play

Rolling their sunken eyes at our naivety  
Slaves to the living? No, we're slaves to the dead
Praying for the souls long past gone
Drinking tea with the devils, bathing in the flames
Are you ready? The lightning is coming,
Beware, beware.