The Wasteland

And the man walked through the acrid ash of heaven
To the smoldering tree destroyed by Father's wrath
And he carved from it a staff
To lean on in the aftermath.

And the man and woman went out from the garden
And when they turned to look, the pathway back was gone
So they turned and set their eyes
To the land that lies beyond.

Red rock and outcrop stone
And the sun glares off a bleaching bone
There's no comfort or softness here
There's only the wasteland.

The land of the hunter, the stalker, and the skinner
Where you're either the diner or the dinner
And the line between man and beast keeps getting thinner
In the wasteland.

In the wasteland, the land laid waste
Fruit of knowledge has a bitter taste
But the bliss of ignorance can never be replaced
It's lost in the wilderness.

And there came a day, in a chilly rain
A child was born in sweat and pain
But they loved him still and they called him Cain
Of the wasteland.

In the wasteland, the land forlon
Two more years and one more morning
There's another cry heard and another boy born
To be lost in the wilderness.

Heat-baked and dust storm-driven
And one false step stays unforgiven
And all that you know is you weren't made to live in
The wasteland.