I wanted to ask a guy to the prom
But alas I’m a thermonuclear bomb.
Were I to go out in a pretty pink dress
I’d make the whole world feel considerable stress
And instead of the dancing and sighing and kissing
Everyone would shout “Hey, there’s a warhead that’s missing”
And before I’d say “Chill guys, you’re all being dumb”
They’d put me back with the uranium.
And so in my bunker I cry and I dream
Of a man who will see me for more than I seem,
Who’ll sweep me away for one memorable night
Even though afterwards the world won’t be alright…
But maybe a man cannot make me complete
And instead I’ll be happy as radiant heat?