The population has greatly increased,
and now the odds are greatly increased,
that I will someday get a chance, to kiss your lips,
I thank the Lord each day, for the Apocalypse.

People are mostly disfigured or dead,
but, Sugar, I won't let it go to my head.
My mama's face, has dripped down into the dirt.
But I'm still chasin' chitlins, whisky and skirt.