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Out in the waste he rides

A myth he is to the land

In search of weapons and food

Survival his task at hand

Have we lost all hope

For this country once ruled by Man?

No justice to be found

There is no guiding hand

Born of the vault

Purified by the waste

Child of the war

Death soon his fate

Guiding civilization

He's the world's harbinger

Last hope for humanity

He's the lone wanderer