The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The Dickies
The eastern world, it is explodin'
Violence flarin' and bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'?
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
That you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Well, my blood's so mad it feels like coagulatin'
I'm a-sittin' here just contem-temp-a-latin'
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation
A handful of senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring segregation
When human respect is disintegratin'
The whole fuckin' world is just too frustratin'
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
That you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Well, look at all the hate that there is in Alhambra
And look around at Selma, Alabama
You can fight your [?] for three months in space
When they come back, it is the same old place
The poundin' of the drums, pride and disgrace
Well, you can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next-door neighbor, don't forget to say grace
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
That no, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
[x3]
We're on the eve of destruction
Eve of Destruction was written by P.F. Sloan.
Eve of Destruction was produced by Stan Lee [Dickies] & John Hewlett.