- The Narrator: I'm recording this because this could be the last thing I'll ever say. The city I once knew as home is tetering on the edge of radioactive oblivion. A three hundred thousand degree baptism by nuclear fire. I'm not sorry. We had it coming. A surge of white hot atonement will be our wake up call. Hope for our future is now a stillborn dream. The bomb's beginning to fall and I'm rushing to meet my love. Please, remember me. There is, no more.