This is not the end
There’s no apocalypse
And all those kids, were full of it
I got your hand in my hand
No drinks in sight
It’s how we start a fire: with a natural high
With hands in our pockets, this doesn’t have to be our last dance
With hands in our pockets, this world doesn’t have to end
No grand finale
Hands in our pockets, we’ll march into the sun
When Monday comes, it’s ringing in your head
And these battle drums, in a world that’s bent
On, on, on
We’re going on, on, on (march into the sun)
We’re going on, on, on
We’re going on, on, on (march into the sun)
We’re going on, on, on
We’re going on, on, on (march into the sun)
We’re going on, on, on
We’re going on