Nuclear Wasteland

March 20, 1991
Issue 
5
Culture

Nuclear Wasteland

By Peter Brown

I took my child to the nuclear wasteland,

to the nuclear wasteland I took my child,

and the flowers were blue, and the desert was yellow,

while above us the sky rolled, clouds driven by wind.

I took my child to the nuclear wasteland,

to the nuclear wasteland I took my child,

and the trees were grey, and the air was unnatural,

while above us the sky rolled, clouds driven by wind.

I took my child to the nuclear wasteland,

to the nuclear wasteland I took my child,

and we stood at the edge of an endless chasm,

while the billy boiled and all the people of conscience were marched away.

I took my child to the nuclear wasteland,

to the nuclear wasteland I took my child,

to the teeth of the green ant, the belly of the rainbow serpent,

while the billy boiled and all the people of conscience were marched away.

I took my child to the nuclear wasteland,

to the nuclear wasteland I took my child,

and the flowers were blue, and the desert was yellow,

while the billy boiled and all the people of conscience were marched away.

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