Faint hope
When the chips are down
The uranium glows.
Who wears the crown
In the nuclear flows?
When nation speaks
Pain unto nation
And wild-eyed freaks
Threaten all of creation
In the dark of the night
When cold fears abound
And those without sight
Threaten with sound.
Who can return us
Back from the brink
And comfort the fallen
Before we all sink?
The uranium glows.
Who wears the crown
In the nuclear flows?
When nation speaks
Pain unto nation
And wild-eyed freaks
Threaten all of creation
In the dark of the night
When cold fears abound
And those without sight
Threaten with sound.
Who can return us
Back from the brink
And comfort the fallen
Before we all sink?
Copyright © 5th February 2003. 2003 by the Wordsmith







