This is the wasteland, we call this the wasteland,
Where fewer little posh boys can??™t believe we treasure beer cans.
Where??™d you get those fans,
Found them at the shop man,
Peculiar place to find them but they??™re dedicated View fans.
You think it??™s cynical to this home a miracle,
It??™s not a miracle; we??™re just so strangely typical,
Initiate in one gang, initiations tough man,
Imprisonment is on the cards,
We??™re heading for the quick sand.
Sign on the brew, coz there??™s nothing to do,
Nothing to do, but listen to you,
Not listening to you my parents told me not to,
This is the wasteland, our idealistic wasteland,
Regurgitated circle of a seven hour shop stand.
So steal a car chief, the police are off the beat thief,
They??™ll find it funny when they see insurance relief,
Sign on the brew, coz there??™s nothing to do,
Nothing to do, but I listen to you,
I??™m not listening to you my parents told me not to,
Think you??™re a hard prick, something quite sadistic,
No you weren??™t sadistic when he??™d done you with the brick vick,
Your land is boring, so very, very boring.
Wouldn??™t dream to wonder if it??™s raining or it??™s snowing.
This is the wasteland, wasteland…
