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.