UNDERNEATH THE MUSHROOM CLOUD Mar. 23/84 Karl Rigelhof

Underneath the mushroom cloud
They croak like toads upon their stools
The politicians shout out loud
But their words fall upon deafened ears
Deformed bodies and vacant minds
The last vestiges of mankind

They wonder if they are safe
In their concrete tombs far underground
They know that there is no escape
But will their seals keep them out
You can hear them scratching at the door
As they lie gasping on the floor

They feel that they are still in control
Their computer link tells them so
But they just talk to other consoles
For everything else was melted in the molten glow
Now they have no one to rule
Who shall we call the fool

And when their supplies are all gone
Will they unseal the locks at last
And rise to the surface to meet the dawn
To find that they have become
Fresh meat for the slaughter
Taken from the deep storage of human fodder