Mothra

Jarrett Osborn

Stroll past the neon signs on the buildings of Tokyo
With its sand castle skyline making a b-line to shelters down below
Thin paper models and army men cast in green
The flickering light of a calcium torch rising up on the silver screen

So it’s real
It’s happening now without hope of return
You can’t help yourself
You’re Mothra watching the world as it burns

Hey you, grab the suntan lotion and hit the beach
It’s 15 miles inland, where the parking lots used to be
Glide on the chemtrails, can’t track you through the vaccines
It’s russian roulette with the chambers all filled and a backup magazine