lyrics
LIVING UNDER
The radio you clutch is drowned by the sirens wailing.
This is it! This is it, and the family is helter skelter.
Running down the steps that lead to your private shelter,
But it won’t do you any good.
The radio announced that the nuclear dawn has arrived.
The radio announced that you’ve twenty-three minutes alive.
The radio announced that only undergrounders survive.
This is it! This is it, and the family is helter skelter.
Your running down the steps that lead to the private shelter.
The radio you clutch is drowned by the sirens wailing
And it won’t do you any good.
The radio announced that the nuclear dawn has arrived.
The radio announced that you’ve twenty-three minutes alive.
The radio announced that only undergrounders survive.
Running down the steps that lead to the private shelter.
This is it! This is it, and the family is helter skelter.
The radio you clutch is drowned by the sirens wailing
And it won’t do you any good.
The radio announced that you’ve only seconds alive.
The radio announced that the nuclear dawn has arrived.
The radio announced that only undergrounders survive.
The radio you clutch is drowned by the sirens wailing.
This is it! This is it, and the family is helter skelter.
Your running down the steps that lead to the private shelter,
But it won’t do you any good.
LIVING UNDER
(Medford)
Written: 4,5,7 August 1981 [LM song number 18] 1212 Mountain Blvd, Montclair, Oakland, CA.
Recorded on 4-track reel-to-reel, 7 August 1981, 1212 Mountain Blvd, Montclair, Oakland, CA.
First appeared on Work-in-Progress cassette album, February 1982.
Remastered by Carl Salbacka & Leslie Medford
Publishing: Browbeat (BMI)
The register says this is my 18th song, and among the first handful attempted on my new reel-to-reel 4-track; written and recorded on 4,5,7 August 1981 in my mostly dirt-floored bedsit in Montclair, where many extraordinary adventures took place, musical and otherwise. Obviously, I knew nothing about recording, but soared by the seat of my pants somehow. The 'drumset' was a combination of knees, cans, maracas and stuff; it’s my new-to-me ’63 Gibson SG, and my love of the earliest Killing Joke (and Lennon) is writ large. What ferocious fun I had. Play Loud!
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