Atom Drum Bop Songtext
von The Three Johns

Welcome to district no. 8.
Land of the American helpers
The security needs of the United States
Have written the great modern fiction
This is the jargon of playground brawl
Who is the toughest?
American tests and Soviet tests
The odd computer reads out death
AS new missiles come in generations
New models to be sold like cars
A bomb, H bomb, Minutemen The names get more attractive
Welcome to the land of the Tomahawks
Missiles for American cowboys
Where our decisions are made by N.A.T.O.
The press call it British opinion
See the reports on the television
The decisions are already made
The a voice is the voice of the expert
Oh Queen Mother smile again
Welcome to the land of the mutants
Radiation and destruction

When it comes to the C.R.U.N.C.H.
Will you dance? Will you dance?
When it come to the C.R.U.N.C.H.
Will you dance? Will you dance?
Will you dance to the atom drum bop?


When it come to the crunch
The rich are in their shelters
Welcome to the land of the dissidents
With a 15 minute warning
To construct a sandbag shelter
No time, no point to crawl inside
When it comes to the crunch
It′ll all be spelt out for us.
Welcome to the land of disregard
Apocalypse for breakfast
This is the E.N.D. radio