Tongues of ash Drip from marble mouths Suits with paper spines Draw skulls on the maps Knuckles on the launch codes Hands that shake like glass Preach of holy fire From bunkers built to last You want the war You're not ready for the heat Pray for the blast But you're scared of burned teeth You want the fire Can't face the marching dead Thermonuclear cowards Crown of rust on your head Children trade their lunches For plastic soldiers Guns Old men trade their children For glory songs half-sung Dream of cities melting While your stocks go green But every ghost you bargain Comes crawling through your screen You want the war You're not ready for the heat Pray for the blast But you're scared of burned teeth You want the fire Can't face the marching dead Thermonuclear cowards Crown of rust on your head Drop Drop Drop (You choke on the word) Burn Burn Burn (But you fear to be first) Every button you touch Is a mirror you break See your own soft flesh In every life you take You want the war You're not ready for the heat Pray for the blast But you're scared of burned teeth You want the fire Can't face the marching dead Thermonuclear cowards Crown of rust on your head