Stanislav Petrof
Stanislav Petrof, let’s call the man ‘Stan’
Was the Russian on duty that night
When the US was seen launching missiles
Said his shakey computer printouts.
That night was in September
Nineteen eighty three
My son aged nearly two
Was seeping soundly as kids do.
We woke up innocent next morning
Without a having a clue
The world had nearly ended
And we had so much to do.
Think of the things never finished
The children never brought into the world
Had everything finished that night
The end of mankind as we know it
But Stan, he sat on the info
Believing it flawed and untrue
Lying to his army superiors fearing
They’d fire back as army men do.
An ignorant world kept on sleeping
He kept his secret well hidden
For twenty more years we lived on
Unaware of how close we came to the end.
The courage of one man is amazing
Or terrifying depending on your view
That our existence should rely on a hero
With bravery and sense to come through
How many more times can we roll
The nuclear dice and keep winning?
Why is Britain now thinking
Of increasing its nuclear arsenal?
Small men always need big guns
To hide behind their mistakes
Wars have always been started by cowards
Afraid of facing the truth.
Deflect all their woes on the ‘enemy’
Is the trademark of the tyrant
The populist shortcut to victory
While drinking champagne at Chequers.
If the nuclear war is started
There’ll be no more drinking on Sundays
Or on any weekday for that matter
For the despot can barely hold out
Because his short suit is easily shattered.
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