The World is heading for destruction
Like a fool chasing his wine
The World is heading for destruction
Like a fool chasing his wine
I gotta a bad, bad, bad feeling
We're running outta time
I got eleven elevens in my pocket
Number thirty-three in my shoes
I got eleven elevens in my pocket
Number thirty-three in my shoes
Waking me up half past midnight
Oh! I just don't know what to do
See that old rugged cross in the corner
It's calling out to you and me
See that old rugged cross in the corner
It's calling out to you and me
We might be fine on Sunday
But, where we gonna spend eternity