Industrial collapse
The wheels of the machine grind to a halt living in excess
Greedy bastards
We've closed in on ourselves
Detached from nature
Technology's children must fend for themselves
Dwindling resources
This lifestyle cannot be maintained
The bike punks will rule the wasteland
The wells run dry
Running on fumes when your car comes to a sputtering halt
We will become apocalypse riders
When wheels of steel dance on your graves
You will fear apocalypse riders