| I started with nothing they took it all
|
| Swapped it for a suburn and a foot in the balls
|
| I’m homeless and hopeless these bogans are bogus emotionally deprived and rife
|
| with psychosis
|
| They’ve gone and made max ferocious
|
| How mad this bloke is
|
| That’ll stab you in the back with a broken bone and slash your scrotum
|
| I need to have the focus
|
| To build the magnum opus
|
| And plan a roadtrip so that I can go and tackle scrotus
|
| He scrapped my black on black ballache
|
| Messing with another fella’s car?
|
| Not at all mate
|
| Never miss a war boy he’s one foot in the grave
|
| When I twist the blade never forget the look on their face
|
| Look, I’m not brave, I just wanna repay the pain
|
| I ain’t saving the world
|
| There’s no world to save
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| Collect Scrap
|
| To attach to my ride and drive the threat back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I’ve left tracks
|
| From gas town way out to the out back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I blast caps from blas cap and splatter the barren flats with flak
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I wreck tracks
|
| And make you crap your kecks like ex-lax
|
| Just nipping out to nick stuff
|
| And then get stuck in the big nothing
|
| But get stuffed if you think I’ll quit, huffing
|
| Unsettle the dust
|
| Above the speckles of rust
|
| I’ve got myself to help
|
| There’s no one better to trust until
|
| I bumped into chumbucket
|
| Through plum luck and it got me pumped up
|
| To have a chum who’s up for:
|
| Mucking in
|
| Tucking in
|
| Trucking
|
| Kicking up a motherfucking ruckus
|
| Sick enough to sit in
|
| While I’m socking these suckers
|
| When we hop in the vehicle
|
| I call shotgun
|
| That’s not a metaphor, mate
|
| I’ve actually got one
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| Collect Scrap
|
| To attach to my ride and drive the threat back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I’ve left tracks
|
| From gas town way out to the out back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I blast caps from blas cap and splatter the barren flats with flak
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I wreck tracks
|
| And make you crap your kecks like ex-lax
|
| I’ve got a ticket to ride
|
| To where the fittest survive
|
| To live here requires
|
| A particular type of meticulous mind
|
| You need volition
|
| Munition
|
| And intuition to drive
|
| And that’s what griffa provides
|
| It’s not sufficient to be wishful
|
| And blag it
|
| You need the nads to eat a fistful of maggots
|
| From prickles to scrapulance
|
| Rippers and rammers
|
| You’re going to need to be a dab hand
|
| Which a wrench and a hammer
|
| The manic
|
| Mechanic
|
| Installing panic
|
| Bringing havoc
|
| To these panoamic lands
|
| With my rampant antics
|
| Though its dramatic
|
| I’m a classic romantic at heart
|
| Hi, honey I’m home
|
| You wont believe the traffic
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| Collect Scrap
|
| To attach to my ride and drive the threat back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I’ve left tracks
|
| From gas town way out to the out back
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I blast caps from blas cap and splatter the barren flats with flak
|
| I’m Mad Max
|
| I wreck tracks
|
| And make you crap your kecks like ex-lax |