Bad Science Fiction
© Greg Keeler 1987

Nuclear Waste Blues

Well, I'm a derelict of sorts. Seems I've always been down,
Wastin' my time in town after town.
Some say I'm noble. Some say I'm a clown.
Most just don't know what to say.
I've killed a couple people--even saved a couple jerks.
I fought against the Greeks on Cypress with the Turks,
But most the time I spend just lookin' for some useless type of work,
Like scrubbin' bugs off of license plates
Or sittin' in the gutter clubbin' rats
Or sittin' in a bar blowin' foam off of people's beer
Or workin' for the Army Corps of Engineers.
Well, after a while I got tired of all that,
Sold my bug scrubber, pawned off my hard hat,
and headed up to Arco, Idaho.
I heard there was some mighty worthless jobs up there.
I saw a lady on the street. Boy, was she pretty.
I asked her where I might find some work. She said, "Atomic city--
See those shacks out there in the middle of the desert?"
Before I knew it, I was walkin' 'cross the sand,
Talkin' to a man with a big black cigar and some money in his hand,
And he said, "Son, you look just like our kind of man.
You ain't got much brains, but you've got a lot of balls.
You seem strong enough, and hell, you seem awfully tall.
Tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna send you up to central headquarters
in Idaho, Falls.
Well, they introduced me to a secretary and sat me down beside 'er
And said we want you two to work on these here typewriters
Sendin' letters up to folks in Bozeman, Montana.
Tell 'em how you were born there and how nuclear power
Has a glorious future. You'll even get a couple bucks an hour."
That seemed to work for a little while.
Then that fella with the big black cigar walked up lookin' kinda glum
And said, "We're havin' a little problem with credibility son.
We need to send you up to Montana to do a little p.r. work.
Then he got real serious and stared wistfully into my face,
And he asked if I'd ever heard of nuclear waste,
and I said, "Hell no, not that I can think of."
All the sudden that fella cheered up,
And he asked if I wanted to earn ten thousand bucks,
And I said, "Hell yes, where do I sign up."
So he said, "Here's what I want you to do.
Go up to Bozeman, Montana and stand out in the middle of the street,
And rub this here nuclear waste from your head to your feet,
And when poeple ask you what you're doin' just say,
'See this? This here's nuclear waste,
And it can't hurt you none 'cause looke at me.
I'm rubbin it all over may face."
Well, that seemed to work for a little while.
Then that fella with a big black cigar walked up with a smile
And said, "Well, that oughtta 'bout do it son.
I brought a fella here to repace you.
I'll be sending you your ten grand any day.
Here's ten dollars to hold you over till then."
That fella had a heart of gold. There isn't any doubt.
I just can't figure why my skin's all blotchy and my hair's fallin' out.
Oh well, I'll be gettin' my ten grand any day.
I guess I'll just head on up the street and buy a brand new toupee.