Wasteland

There's a hole in the sky
where the soul meets the eye
out under the field generator in my back yard

We spent time, spent our lives
round a fire built out there
in a wasteland that's hardly known

Driving blind, riding high
in a rebuilt station wagon
we survived in style
and never thought much about it

Remember that time, she almost
stood too close to the flames
and those people drove up scared us all

Nothing much would have spooked us
including the law
for the times that we saw
were like embers that died in the night

In the wasteland, spririts soared
like the rockets we launched
and music we played

Out under the field generator
in my back yard.