Doomsday Profit

Situation: Catastrophic. The end is nigh.

Earth erodes. But you won't stop it, while margins fatten. Doomsday profit

You sold denial. We all bought it. Now we're paying.

We saw it coming. You could have fought it. You'll kill us all for doomsday profit

Fallout rains, hailstorms of rockets. You pulled the strings.

These blackened skies, our global coffin. Was it all worth your doomsday profit?

The streets, a flood of blood and vomit. But you bought shelter.

You're unconcerned with human losses As long as you've got doomsday profit

Deny the future. Reject the prophets. Sell out your children.

The choice you made to line your pockets: a sick betrayal for doomsday profit

The life you knew — gilded, immodest — now burns to ash.

Mercury rises. The reaper's knocking. You bought us hell with doomsday profit.

Blood stains your hand and won't come off it. You'll die alone.

You own this fate. You fucking bought it. There's no use now for doomsday profit.

In a cold gray tomb, your life, forgotten. Left with nothing.

Your sorry corpse, a sad deposit. The worms devour doomsday profit.