Midge Ure - Wastelands

The boy is listening to those records from the past He wants to make them last For they make him feel alive they are the voices of the faces on the wall He listens to them all Hangs on every little tale they tell he knows them all and their life life stories Shares their pain and shares their glories One day he even cut their names upon his skin they mean that much to him for them hed take the test his bedroom window opens to the evenings air The fox is in his lair the volume of his system is full on But the neighbours moan and the parents call the angry noise is the muzak of the wastelands The wastelands The boy is dressingin the fassion of the day The kids all dress the way You can tell them anywhere the boy looks outand sees his friends are waiting there in the cold electric glare of those lampsthat make you think that night is day the drag their lusts into your sight with shouts and screams they meet the night they block you wayin twos and fours in uniforms from city stores theyre closing in,who knows the score it wont be long before A martyrs blood is nourishing the wastelands yes it wont be long before A martyrs blood is nourishing the wastelands The wastelands Oh wastelands yes it wont be long before A martyrs blood is nourishing the wastelands Oh wastelands.