Good thieves of burning cars encirle poisoned rivers minds and hearts
Horses want to dance but find their wings are damaged, water damaged
Gold is selling well but hurry nightly ocean rising fast
A big man with a plan has got a storm a-coming, monster coming.

From Atlantis to interzone
You start on the edge and you end on your own.
From Atlantis to interzone
You start on the edge and you end on your own

We're fragments of fiction

Your dead man half alive who hangs from helping numbers one to five
His ears pricked with the knife hears that the east are coming, west are coming
From gravity's rainbow, the axis here is still unknown
The children's faces glow
The wasteland guides them, wasteland guides them.