[Intro]
I can’t vibe with this.
I can’t.

[Verse 1]
Can you believe?
Tokyo picked:
Minami-ToriShima,
State controlled, special access,
no locals to protest or get in the way,
Stage one “literature survey,”
waste agency rolls it out.
A coral ring, a tiny footprint,
they still want to dig it out.

[Verse 2]
A-toll isn’t land, it’s an edge.
It’s water on all sides.
You don’t “store” fission trash
on an island that erodes.
Currents don’t care who decided what.
Storms don’t care what you call it.
The ocean isn’t a bathtub.
It never holds still.

[Hook]
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
hot waste on a reef.
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
sealed up by the sea.
Still breaking down, the count goes on,
activity doesn’t just cease.
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
distance isn’t disposal,
it’s waste placed beyond witness.

[Verse 3]
Three steps, three phases,
like the clock can be managed.
They’re shopping for a quiet place,
a coordinate off-record.
But waste isn’t quiet.
It’s unstable chaos with consequences:
shield it, log it,
pray it behaves.

[Bridge]
It’s the reverse of containment,
you’re counting on distance
to do the work of a shielded room.
You’re counting on waves
to be polite at best.

[Hook]
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
hot waste on a reef.
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
sealed up by the sea.
Still breaking down, the count goes on,
activity doesn’t just cease.
WASTE ISOLATION A-toll,
distance isn’t disposal,
it’s waste placed beyond witness.