I am a tiny machinist.

I have the smallest plans.

I have a mind television.

The gift of idle hands.

I've been re-educated.

To bleed technology.

Even more complicated than the machines who made me.

I'm a wasteland messiah.

I'm a train run off the track.

I'm a first time believer in.

What might never always does.

Come back...

There was a blackhole voice.

An interrupted transmission.

It said to free yourself.

And that fear is your submission.

I have the tiny tools.

To finish what I start.

I have the vacuum tubes to eat your little hearts.

I'm a wasteland messiah.

I'm a train run off the track.

I'm a first time believer in.

What might never always does come back.

I'm a ghost with a name.

I'm the now and never past.

I'm a first time believer in what might never always does.

Come back.

Yes, I want you.

Yes, I want your mind.

Blow it every time.

They say it's darker when a little light goes out than if it never had shone.

Of this I have no doubt.

I drove the 44.

To sun coming up sky.

And when I saw their cars,

I just smiled in my surprise.

Little wasteland messiahs.

Little trains run off the track.

Little first time believers in.

What might never always does.

Come.

Little ghosts with a name.

Little now and never past.

Little first time believers in.

What might never always does.

Come back.