I sing the song of Sherman Tanks,
Of attacks of flu and pleurisy,
Of cancer cures and union dues,
Of atomic subs and the Arctic sea.
Oh, say can’t you see
The fallout each dawn?
The bombs bursting in air?
Crabgrass in the lawn?
Tramp, tramp, tramp,
The machines are stamping
Out the bills. Income tax.
Put the people on the racks
In neat stacks.
I sing the song of subway trains,
Landlords in slums and racial strife,
Of medical quacks and obsolescence,
Humanity electrocuting a life.
Oh, say can’t you hear
The old ladies curse?
The bombs bursting in air,
Booming death light verse?
Tramp, tramp, tramp,
The machines are stamping
Out the work and the fun.
Who needs people? No one. My
Song is done.
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