"if the sun doesn't rise we'll replace it with an H-bomb explosion,
a painted jail cell of light in the sky
like three-mile-island nightmares on TVs that sing us to sleep.
they burn on an on like an oil field
or a memory of what it felt like
to burn on and on and not just fade away
all those nights in the basement
the kids are still screaming
"on and on and on and on.......""