Hail the blest atomic morn Another worthless song is born The power surge reactor four Up to the sky ascends. Veils the blest atomic sea, Its mouth off Highway 33 Whose lips--untouched with blasphemy-- Our glowing eyes attend Planted in a deadwood field Your voice in my ear I’ve heard that sound before I don’t want to hear no more About the red rock sky About the hemlock line I’ve heard that sound before Harps we dressed on grinding stone Sharp to press our harvest home Rank in vain and file prone Our mortal thought impart Time will fill our windowsills With Black Strap from molasses mills Neither time nor I can fill Your 1985 Chernobyl heart. Planted in a deadwood field Your voice in my ear I’ve heard that sound before I don’t want to hear that sound no more Lit up as the Arco sky On the 17th of July I’ve seen that town before I don’t want to see that town no more I made a little hand-drawn sign, tied it to a roadway sign Tandem swingboat rides On the Oregon saw blade (?) climbed Never was a heart so pure Never was a step so sure