"We Will Become Silhouettes" by The Postal Service

I've got a cupboard with cans of food, 
filtered water, and pictures of you 
and I'm not coming out until this is all over.
And I'm looking through the glass 
Where the light bends at the cracks 
And I'm screaming at the top of my lungs 
Pretending the echoes belong to someone 
Someone I used to know

And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
ba ba ba ba

I wanted to walk through the empty streets
And feel something constant under my feet,
But all the news reports recommended that I stay indoors
Because the air outside will make 
Our cells divide at an alarming rate 
Until our shells simply cannot hold 
All our insides in,
And that's when we'll explode
(And it won't be a pretty sight)

And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
ba ba ba ba