Ahh!! Sounds like my cup of meat
My life fades
the vision dims.
All that remains are memories.
I remember a time of chaos
ruined dreams this wasted land.
But most of all, I remember the Road Warrior
the man we called Max.
To understand who he was, you have to go back to another time
when the world was powered by the black fuel
and the deserts sprouted great cities of pipe and steel.
Gone now swept away.
For reasons long forgotten, two mighty warrior tribes went to war
and touched off a blaze which engulfed them all.
Without fuel they were nothing. They’d built a house of straw.
The thundering machines sputtered and stopped.
Their leaders talked and talked and talked
but nothing could stem the avalanche.
Their world crumbled the cities exploded.
A whirlwind of looting
a firestorm of fear.
Without fuel they were nothing. They’d built a house of straw.
The thundering machines sputtered and stopped.
Their leaders talked and talked and talked
but nothing could stem the avalanche.
Their world crumbled the cities exploded.
Men began to feed on men.
a man haunted by the demons of his past.
A man who wandered out into the wasteland.
And it was here in this blighted place
that he learned to live again.
