A crushing weight dressed,
As a crush on a waitress.
So succinct,
So you think.
Life goes on after the damage is done.
The death encoded in your chromosomes,
In birth defects and cancer rates,
Skyrocket attacks from enemy states,
And the blood which circulates and devistates.
So otherwise occupied.
Can you keep it contained?
Can you keep it from getting around?
It's the bomb, it's a dirty, dirty bomb.
And the vietnamese people would like to know,
Is your life just like a Hollywood movie?
With a happy end and gratuitous nudity?
Is it lonely at the top of the food chain?