Letra de Wastelands - The View

This is the wasteland, we call this the wasteland,
Where fewer little posh boys can�t believe we treasure beer cans.
Where�d you get those fans,
Found them at the shop man,
Peculiar place to find them but they�re dedicated View fans.
You think it�s cynical to this home a miracle,
It�s not a miracle; we�re just so strangely typical,
Initiate in one gang, initiations tough man,
Imprisonment is on the cards,
We�re heading for the quick sand.
Sign on the brew, coz there�s nothing to do,
Nothing to do, but listen to you,
Not listening to you my parents told me not to,
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This is the wasteland, our idealistic wasteland,
Regurgitated circle of a seven hour shop stand.
So steal a car chief, the police are off the beat thief,
They�ll find it funny when they see insurance relief,
Sign on the brew, coz there�s nothing to do,
Nothing to do, but I listen to you,
I�m not listening to you my parents told me not to,
Think you�re a hard prick, something quite sadistic,
No you weren�t sadistic when he�d done you with the brick vick,
Your land is boring, so very, very boring.
Wouldn�t dream to wonder if it�s raining or it�s snowing.
This is the wasteland, wasteland...