Nuclear Winter Wonderland

Some day soon the mushrooms will be sprouting
As the nuclear hammer's dropping down.
Lethal clouds the earth will soon be shrouding
As insane survivors huddle underground.

In the sky, air is poison.
Birdies die,
Hear 'em noisin'.
Perpetual night, without any light,
Nuclear Winter Wonderland.

Outside the shelter, listen, someone's knockin'.
Open up, why look, it's Parson Brown!
He begs, "Let me buried."
We'll say, "You are, man."
Then we'll cut him up and pass his meat around.

In the dark, we'll conspire,
As our cities, burn with fire.
Life is nasty and poor
And brutish and short
In our Nuclear Winter Wonderland.

The mutant comes, believe me, he is no man.
Like an angry, vivisected, circus clown.
He ain't human and, oh God, he sure ain't slow, man.
Six shotgun blasts have failed to put him down.

All that snow's radioactive.
In your nose, it's reactive.
You'll soon feel a need. A sick need to feed,
In our Nuclear Winter Wonderland.

The earth is a grave, no one can be saved.
It's Nuclear Winter Wonderland.

Santa, Santa, Santa

Santa doesn't exist. He's dead, man. But then again, Santa lives. It's a paradox, with roots both in Taoist and Buddhist thought.

"The Santa that can be told is not the true Santa."
-- "Tao Te Kringle"

"If you meet the Santa on the road -- kill him."
--Zen saying.