The Eastern world, it is explodin’ / Violence flarin’, 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’

But you tell me over and over and over again, my friend / Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

Don’t you understand what I’m tryin’ to say? / And can’t you feel the fears I’m feelin’ today? / If the button is pushed, there’s no runnin’ away / There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave / Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy

And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend / Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin’ / I’m sittin’ here just contemplatin’ / I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation / Handful of senators don’t pass legislation / And marches alone can’t bring integration / When human respect is disintegratin’ / This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’

And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend / Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

Think of all the hate there is in Red China / Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama / Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space / But when you return, it’s the same old place / The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace / You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace / Hate your next-door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace

And tell me over and over and over and over again, my friend / You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction / No, no, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

[By P.F. Sloan © Dunhill / Rca Victor, 1965]