Mr. President, we NEED those launch codes! Nations arm themselves, leaders getting their fingers by the button. beads of sweat roll down their faces, as they monitor the levels of radiation. Bombs bred for war years ago, are now being used. Holocaust riding on the wind, people with it are tired of being abused. Here we go, there’s no turning back. One leaves the silo, and once again the beast of war rears it’s ugly neck. This is it, mass extermination. Here we go, it’s the final countdown to all extinction. They fired one! Mr. President, in the name of all that’s holy, give us the launch codes! The finger hits the button, we launch ten instead of one. The egotistical game of "I’m better than you." goes on, while the fate of all humanity tries to hang on. Bombs hit and explode, people are turned into dust. Now the survivors can now see, that the only way out is a holocaust. The general is a pawn to the President, who is a bum to the people of this country. The President has given his last gift to them, a ticket to death, signed by him with glee. Here we go, there’s no turning back. Others leave the silo, and once again the wheels of war go forward, not back. This is it, mass extermination. Here we go, it’s the final countdown to all extinction. ...Mr. President,... Too late, all is dead... death greets me warm now, ...the blast turned my eyes to liquid.