Wasted Lands Songtext
von Clutch

Not H.P. Lovecraft
Nor Stephen King
In their darkest moments
Would dream such a thing
Humongous, humongous
Speaker of lies
It is said to be death
To look in its eyes

What′s its name?
This creature of malice
No one knows for sure
But the locals call him Neil Patrick Fallon


Rumor has it he's a government experiment
And everything about him is a masquerade
Others say he′s a heavenly angel
Gettin' things ready for the end of days
Call your mama, call your paw
Tell everybody here what you saw
Call the sheriff, go get the priest
Festival mineral, man or beast

He's a no-good double-dealing
Snake-eyed, soul-stealing
Serpent of a thing you′d be high-praised to call a man
House breaking, money taking
God′s punishment, there's no mistaking
His footprints leave only empty eyes in wasted lands

Cryptozoological
Would not even begin to explain it
We know not where it comes from
Nor do we know its motivation
Wake the governor, close the roads
Pack your suitcase, charge your phones
Neither living nor deceased
Festival mineral, man or beast


He′s a no-good double-dealing
Forked-tongued, faith-healing
Serpent of a thing you'd be high-praised to call a man
House breaking, money taking
God′s punishment, there's no mistaking
His footprints leave only empty eyes in wasted lands

Not H.P. Lovecraft
Nor Stephen King
In their darkest moments
Would dream such a thing
No-good double-dealing
Snake-eyed, soul-stealing
Nothing but empty eyes in wasted lands

Not H.P. Lovecraft
Nor Stephen King
In their darkest moments
Would admit such a thing
No-good double-dealing
Forked-tongued, faith-healing
Nothing but empty eyes in wasted lands