There is no future left in transformation.
You’re met with insolence and condemnation,
the awful tearing sound of separation ,
and constant knocking causing bad vibration.

Too late to move, there’s just too big a stockpile.
So watch the sky and keep a hand on that dial.
No need to wear a purgatorial grin.
The world has cloaked its civil servants in sin.

(chorus)
Oh, the dead can’t rhumba to the bomb.
They don’t know what they’re missing.
Oh no, the dead can’t rhumba to the bomb.
Hear those elements hissing.

The movies tell you all about survival.
They make it seem just like a Dead revival.
They say the strong who want to stay alive will
hang on perhaps a minute more than I will.

Too late to politic, the lines are frozen.
By atom smashers we have all been chosen.
No need to wear a radiation-proof suit.
Disintegration makes the clothing point moot.
(chorus)