Fukushima Fallout Blues

Standard
Fukushima Fallout Blues

I’m seeing radiation loud
In standard issue fog clouds—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m walking the dog
With matching gas masks on—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m calling family and friends
Telling them I love them, but it’s the end—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m avoiding Pacific fish
And fishy pacifists—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m flying a kite into that nuclear night
But that line’s been used and the core’s been fused—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m listening to conspiracy theorists
And masturbating survivalists—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m raiding Home Depot
Buying up plastic wrap and sealant—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m praying to grow an extra arm
If I must go play on the Fission Farm—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m shaking in my duct tape suit
Irradiating my favorite pair of boots—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m cursing Johnny-Come-Lately Karma
For Nagasaki and Hiroshima—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m crying radioactive tears from my soul
Into my glowing California rolls—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m doing research of the post-apocalyptic kind
Watching Mad Max to prepare my mind—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m thinking those flower children were right
But I’m too sick to keep up the fight—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m holding a seance at San Onofre
Conjuring spirits of the Atomic Age—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

The Toxic Avenger is my patron saint
I’m mopping the floors with leaded paint—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m burning a straw man Oppenheimer
Replaced my wristwatch with a Geiger counter—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m huffing plumes of suspicious smoke
Trying to get in on the cosmic joke—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m on the horn with Ted Kaczynski
To reassure me I ain’t crazy—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

My mates are all cough-makers
I made a date with the undertaker—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m flipping out over Revelation
Staking out higher elevation—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m waxing my Cadillac with zinc oxide
Before I go for my Sunday ride—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I wake up to another day
But how many more I’ll get is hard to say—
Because I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

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