Afraid of what you're making now
It's far too deep, the trench you're in
You've made your toy for the motherland
The invention of the century
To make some cheap electricity
Nuclear power was set to be
A killer thing for the military
Never thought you'd be forced to sell
Your little pet to the government

And bodies go up, and bodies come down
And bodies, they fly around

So now they use your wretched toy
To claim the worlds they do not own
So the smile: We're satisfied
One million dead, some paralized

And now, we stand in front of the graves
The graves of the victims
Having survived is not a blessing
But a burden they have to carry
And now, we honour them
With our sympathy
But you've killed them, with your fantasy