I've got a cupboard with cans of food,
filtered water, and pictures of you
and I'm [bad word] out until this is all over.
And I'm looking through the glass
Where the light bends at the cracks
And I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
Pretending the echoes belong to someone
Someone I used to know

And we [bad word] silhouettes when our bodies finally go
ba ba ba ba

I wanted to walk through the empty streets
And feel something constant under my feet,
But all the news reports [bad word] that I stay indoors
Because the air outside will make
Our cells divide at an alarming rate
Until our shells simply cannot hold
All our insides in,
And that's when we'll explode
(And it won't be a pretty sight)

And we'll [bad word] silhouettes when our bodies finally go
ba ba ba ba