Flood Fill Asleep In Armageddon

No one s gonna get me in my shell Warm in here and comfortable to dwell Lulling sound of Niagara fall No one s gonna break on through my wall Eat the sun and turn the fridges on I ll be singing in my microphone Swallow stars and call your children home I ll stay singing in my microphone No more kind intentions in my head I throw away my clock and go to bed Three and four and five and six and seven Ghosts of burning witches fly to heaven Eat the sun and turn the fridges on I ll be singing in my microphone