Lletres: At The Drive-In. Mannequin Republic.

They'd call it a wasteland auslander plates you know its armor was human drove stakes into the main camps eyesockets sank into the back of its head again this frequency was jet lagged yes the wrinkles mate was the owner's manual frequent flyers in denial and all the while emergency is evident revenants were the statues radar learning of huddles masses sutured all the patience of this nursing home emitted from the pages of this burial ground labor concentrated in this sheepless chapel they call it a wasteland