Pentagon code
for end of world
is rural paradise,
if plan fails
it’s rural paradise

For losses under
100 million, a trip
on the wayward bus

For a future of mutants,
bridal parties collide

World famine is
a plague of beatniks

First strike and
I sniff your nieces
     I fall to pieces
         Get hell out…

A madman comes, 
one of those babies
the further you kick it
the bigger it gets.