Cold War Blues

Missiles locked and loaded, bombers overhead,

the radiation spread is somethin’ that we dread.

Comes a sonic boom, there’s panic in the room.

We maybe assume, a mushroom cloud of doom

CONELRAD Six-Forty, the radio sounds the tones,

“Hide beneath your desk!” the teacher she intones.

Dig a fallout shelter, stock it up real well,

but when you emerge, you’ll find yourself in Hell.

Korea’s not a war, that’s what Truman swore,

Send the Corps ashore to even up the score.

For Quemoy and Matsu, Nixon he would fight,

Those missiles in Cuba surely can’t be right.

The Russians in Haiphong, maybe don’t belong,

Barry says be strong, nuthin’ can go wrong.

Failsafe and Strangelove, entertain us all,

certainly tomorrow, bombs are gonna’ fall.

They put a missile silo, out behind the barn,

and launched a satellite, the citizens to warn.

When the tensions ease, we can have détente,

swords in their sheaths never more to flaunt.

We put it in the past, hopin’ it might last,

may our fate not be cast by a nuclear blast.

LDT Mar 23, ‘22

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