Hold onto your gas masks, sweethearts! The Atomic Sisters are serving up a cautionary ballad for any bunker-dweller looking for love in all the dampest places. It turns out that “fungal charm” is a real thing, and it’s a lot harder to scrub off than you’d think.

A Love That Grows on You (Literally)

We’ve all heard of “shroom tycoons” making a killing in the underground trade, but what happens when you actually walk down the aisle with one? This latest track follows the story of a whirlwind wasteland romance—one that starts with a spore in a mayonnaise flask and ends with a husband who is more “vegetable” than “man.”

Vivian, Rosemary, and Frankie harmonize beautifully over the struggles of domestic life when your spouse starts sprouting puffballs on his elbows and singing lullabies to the mold. It’s a classic tale of post-war matrimony: the honeymoon was in a fallout ditch, the catering was two-headed fish, and the “I do” was shouted over the frantic ticking of a Geiger counter.

Mulch Ado About Nothing

The Sisters give us a cheeky warning: love might be blind, but it definitely shouldn’t be covered in lichen. Between the spores telling you to stay and the doors literally growing shut, this is one “rut” you might not want to find yourself in. It’s a toe-tapping reminder that while a man with a steady supply of truffles is tempting, you might end up as part of the compost before the honeymoon’s over.

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I MARRIED A MAN WITH A MUSHROOM FARM

by: Atomic Sisters

I married a man with a mushroom farm
He smelled like moss and had fungal charm
He whispered sweet nothings through a filter mask
And proposed with a spore in a mayonnaise flask

Now he glows in the dark and he hums in C
Has a mushroom cap where his hat should be
He don’t say much but he sings to the mold
And he’s 32 but he looks 300 years old

Our honeymoon was in a fallout ditch
We toasted with broth and a two headed fish
He gave me a ring made of lichen and lead
I said I do though my Geiger counter said red

Now he glows in the dark and he sprouts at night
Says Honey let’s cuddle and gives me a fright
The neighbors say I’ve lost my mind
But mold is love and love is blind

He’s got puffballs where his elbows go
And truffles in his chest hair row by row
I tried to leave once the door grew shut
Now the spores say Stay and I’m in a rut

So if you fall for a shroom tycoon
Don’t kiss him under a glowin’ moon
He’ll charm your nose and steal your heart
And turn you to mulch ‘fore the next song start