Atomic man, embossed on hues of Money greens that swell and ooze, will Scratch his chin as if to muse that All this winning meant to lose Though he slaved and hate his dues Here he was, no time to choose A way to change and try to fuse him- self into the way the queues around him
"Attack you fools!" the captain bawls "I have your heads upon my walls!" Rows of heroes crouch to crawls, bomb Bamboo huts and village halls, smash Ping-pong bats with cannon balls, as Ali-Baba's sheiks and souls Debag Goliath as he falls While the Statue Of Liberty climbs and mauls everything
"Champagne for the hero whore And watch your step in all that gore But not too much, he'll scream for more" El pres. advices from the door "For though he's filled from skin to core It's not enough he'll whine for sure, so Say it's we who keep the score, and nail him back upon the floor, that to do it!"
So there he works, still at large Behind his smiles and his camouflage Of nice white coats and college grades that Hide blue suits with golden braids And though I hope the smell just fades It does not go but leads to raids on Bamboo huts in country glades Where the people use the grass for blades