Hiroshima Nagasaki Russian Roulette

Jim Page

They dropped the bomb in ’45 to end the World War.
No one had ever seen such a terrible sight before.
The world looked on with eyes awide to see where it might lead.
The politics of power passed around the seed.
It was a time to remember that we never can forget.
They were playing Hiroshima Nagasaki Russian Roulette.

They rose up like the saviours of our modern human race
With radiation haloes hung about their face
With the keys to the sure cure – the treatment for our ills,
A hot shot of cobalt – a pocket full of pills,
Speaking always of the enemy who lurked across the seas
While they crept in our midst like a carrier disease.

Deep down inside the bunkers of the concrete and the lead,
Einstein’s disciples working steadily ahead,
Making heavy-metal power plants to fire the city lights
All you hear in the underground is the humming through the night.
The walls of tight security circle all around
Where they spill out their poison and they bury it in the ground.

Holed up in the harbours, hidden secretly away,
Warheads and submarines they await to make their play,
Military masterminds improving their design
The soldiers get all doped up – stumble through the lines
The spills into the rivers get carried by the tide
They call this security – were not satisfied.

Our statesmen and leaders with their politicians’ pay,
Quick to heed the hand that feeds, they’re careful what they say
The call out experts to assure us, to wave the magic wand
This is the power of the future, the future marches on.
And they call in all their favours, all their political gains
While the spills fill the rivers and settle in the plains.

They’ve caused the deaths of millions, that’s their stock-in-trade.
They will be afflicate by the fallout that they made
They’ve sealed their own inevitable doom, it must surely come.
Not even the moons of Jupiter would be far enough away to run
When the earth that they’ve assaulted begins to turn around
And the unavoidable gravity sucks them to the ground.

I know the minds behind them, they’re riddled full of holes,
Not to be trusted with their hands at the controls.
Their eyesight is twisted by the glory of their careers
The heaped praise of flattery is music to their ears.
To listen to them talk about how it hasn’t happened yet
It’s like playing Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Russian Roulette.
Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Russian Roulette.