They’ve scrubbed all the dirt from their website
The predictions that somehow went wrong
If a visitor didn’t know better
You’d think they’d been sane all along

They still believe Jesus is coming
They’re no longer predicting a date
They’re confused that they’re still here to wonder
But they’re putting it all down to fate

Somewhere, a lunatic’s howling
His freak-flag is proudly unfurled
But Harold has given up doomsdays
It’s the end of “the end of the world”

They used to say “Jesus is coming!”
They’d done so for fifty-odd years
“So send us your prayers and donations!”
There’s money in preying on fears

But they went to the well once too often
With a guaranteed rapture. Then two.
When the end didn’t come as predicted
Well, what’s an old con-man to do?

Somewhere, a lunatic’s howling
His banner is proudly unfurled
But Harold has given up doomsdays
It’s the end of “the end of the world”