Planet Death from The Dirt by Munchaus

VERSE 1:
The lens flare burns in his right eye
A pool of pitch against the bluest sky
The world is KO'd and fully-decayed
Now the beasts roam, just trying to graze

A metal helmet made from a bucket of blades
The armor gets fashioned upon his face
Rolling over the dunes in his '85
Trying his best just to survive

Darkness falls and the bunkers hatch
Shells get loaded and barrels are latched
The son of the moon seeks to live
Knowing each day is another gift

A war for the world left us all dead
The piper was paid with bombs and lead
Kings and warriors fought for land
Now all they rule is the shifting sands

VERSE 2
Dust fills his hair and clumps the locks
The slide gets pulled on his 45 Glock
Raiders think they've got the best chance
But heroes always can when others can't

Cracking off shells and blasting open caps
The Protag doesn't need a victory lap
The Wastes need a savior from death
One man stands quiet against the rest

Plundering and finding, he adds to his gear
Never hesitating to flee when loss is near
Secret as he is kind, the man rolls by
As he helps, people never wonder why

The savior of the sands, the pope of the polluted
Aid is his way and he preaches when he's shooting
A trail of bloodshed and .45 casings
The Protag roams without breaking

• Electronic
• experimental electronic
• instrumentals
• vocoders
• Beckley