In his tiny fallout shelter,
singing songs like "Helter Skelter,"
Tom Thumb sits alone and cries,
wondering what decides who dies.
It was late in twenty-eight;
infamy will haunt the date.
Skies turned white and mountains tumbled.
All the human race was humbled.
Now it’s narrowed down to one.
Earth’s new Adam is Tom Thumb,
doomed to live without an Eve
in the nuclear reprieve.
Genocidal apes at last
have evolved a future past.
Tom Thumb in his metal box
dreams he could turn back the clocks.