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.