Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
Bob Mould
The Left Coast is covered in ash and flames
Keep denying the winds of climate change
The Deep South sinking into the sea
But you don't believe me
Across the Plains are fields of rotting wheat
Appalachian trail of pain relief
And the cities are teeming
Rolling over with tension and greed
The rising tide of a broken government
Gold boats are floating on cement
And we're going to war
And we're going to die
I wear my heart on my sleeve
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Don't know who to believe
Don't know who to believe any more