I've got a bomb shelter in my backyard
|
With a years supply of beer, some guns and a deck of cards
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Just me and the band a couple girls with big tits
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We're having a party on the eve of the apocalypse
|
|
The Punx'll survive the nuclear blast
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Then the world will be ours at last
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We'll ransack the local armory
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And get all kids of high tech weaponry
|
Living in the rubble of World War III
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Safe in a fortified brewery
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With motion detectors and claymore mines
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To back our No Tresspassing signs
|
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We'll be tyrants and do as we please
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Enslave the pitiful refugees
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We'll be a new society
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The most decadent in history
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With sex-slave girls on golden chains
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And bloody arena combat games
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Exotic grisly executions
|
Are weekend party institutions
|
|
[Chorus:]
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Nuclear castastrophe
|
Armageddon World War III
|
The end of the world but not for me
|
It's my post punkrock nuke fantasy
|
|
On safari in the forbidden zone
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where flesh-eating zombies roam
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Our enemies staked out as bait
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Lure mutants to where we wait
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We let them have their ghoulish feast
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Then open up and spray the beasts
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So just remember if you cross us
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Mutants shall feast on thine carcass
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[Repeat Chorus]
|
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Burning survivalists out of their shelters
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Omega man singing Helter Skelter
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Road warriors with beers in hand
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Amrageddons offical band
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|
-----------------
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Mutants (Shall Feast On Thine Carcass)
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| Quincy Punx |
