When nightmare turns reality,
Notorious calamity,
Chernobyl chills and oils spills,
Hey, where's purple mountain majesty'
Chlorine sky showers darkened air,
Our fate hangs on a razors edge,
Mother nature sheds a tear.
Living in a state of illusion on this ball of confusion, heading for a hurricane of trouble,
That hour the east was taken is the day the world was shaken, and now we're all in the waiting room.
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As we fool around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. (clock runs down)
Man's quest for knowledge is a strange affair - from know-how to nowhere,
While the fabric of life's hanging by a thread cannibals of wealth are closing years end.
To unborn generations the torch is passed along,
Will they someday wake up and say, Where have all the flowers gone''
Conflict of conviction,
Gotta make some decisions right now while the die is cast,
Mr. Sludge, our corporate cousin has the disease of not listening,
Time to pay our debt to the past.
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As we fool around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As the world turns around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. (clock runs down)
Clock runs down, it's gonna run down,
Clock's gonna run down, it's gonna run down,
Whatcha gonna do when the clock runs down'
Turning down,
Whatcha gonna do when the clock runs down'
Where're you left to go when the clock runs down'
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As we fool around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As the world turns around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As we fool around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
When the clock runs down on this family of man there's no hiding place for tomorrow,
As the world turns around we're trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.