They'd call it a wasteland
Aulander plates
You know its armour was human
Drove stakes into the main camps
Eye sockets sank into
The back of its head again
This frequency was jet lagged
Yes the wrinkles mate
Was the owner's manual
Aulander plates
You know its armour was human
Drove stakes into the main camps
Eye sockets sank into
The back of its head again
This frequency was jet lagged
Yes the wrinkles mate
Was the owner's manual
Frequent flyers in denial
And all the while
Emergency is evident
Revenants were the statues
Radar learning of huddles masses
Sutured all the patience
Of this nursing home
Emitted from the pages
Of this burial ground
Labour concentrated
In this sheepless chapel
They call it a wasteland
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This Station Is Non-Operational: Anthology
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Acrobatic Tenement