Lyrics:

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, 'cause 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, 'cause 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...