The sheriff disappeared
He drove in a doomed Corvette
Helen was in the passenger seat eating melon and spitting out the seeds
Feeling happy to be alone but still turning a saxophone
As cold as stone kinda like
She said this is what the apocalypse will look like
A tornado with human eyes
Poisoned birdbaths and torrents of chemical rain
Like the heads of state hyperventilating in clouds of methane
Sundown on the human heart
And this is what the apocalypse will sound like
But it will be loud as a mushroom cloud
It'll sound like Final Jeopardy
But somehow be ghostly like a glockenspiel
Like the testing of bombs or the tapping of stiletto heels
It'll sound like jazz
Jazz, jazz, jazz
Jazz on the Autobahn
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