Wasteland - Smokey Bastard

From the winding concrete ring-roads to the council estates

To the endless sprawling suburbs every turning looks the same

This commuter town so drained of any culture of it’s own

Oh this wasteland, this wasteland is our home

Oh this wasteland, this wasteland is our home

Sweet fuckin' home

Oh what I would do for heritage, a homeland I could claim

As my daily inspiration and an ever burning flame

That may guide me on my travels, never leading me astray

Back to this wasteland, this wasteland is our home.

Well everyone needs roots to give them succour, pride and strength

But mine cannot take hold here so I’m giving them away

To these fake romantic notions of cultures far away

God save my homeland, my homeland is a waste.

And the ghosts of this town will shadow us wherever we may roam

Oh this wasteland, this wasteland is our home

This wasteland, this wasteland is our home.

Oh the folk songs we grew up with, vivid pictures they would paint,

But this is the M4 corridor, all colour fades to grey

In the home of footloose industry, where apathy is laced

Into the fabric of our daily lives, you find yourself displaced

So go spend your life a roving wanderer by trade

May you find some place to call your own, or wander to the grave

But you’ll never walk unburdened and you’ll never walk alone

In this wasteland, this wasteland is your home

And the ghosts of this town will shadow us wherever we may roam

Oh this wasteland, this wasteland is our home

This wasteland, this wasteland is our home.