CLUB APOCALYPSE

What if I actually am the last man dancing? What if the milk and the honey just run dry? If CNN says the planet’s in peril That means it’s time to don your dance apparel We’re heating up like a humidor So you’d best be getting your ass on the dance floor

Don’t make no future plans Just let me in your pants ‘Cause this is our last dance We’re at the club apocalypse

There’s not a shred of hope But there’s no velvet rope Come on bring your plus-ones Until it’s minus Everyone

Step on inside and get high on some carbon dioxide ‘Cuz you know there’s not a damn thing that we can do We didn’t heed the call for conservation So now we’re sweatin’ to the Revelations I don’t foresee a savior for me But if you think he’s coming back I’ll sell you my SUV

Don’t make no future plans Just let me in your pants Put your hands on my hips We’re at the club apocalypse

There’s trouble in the sky The end is drawing nigh Let me betwixt your thighs Until we kiss our ass goodbye