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The Giant Land Cod and I traverse the countryside hiding out in whatever cave we can find. When we move we drive big old cars and when we drink we drink too much. We keep moving as we don't particularly want to be here. The music is the only thing keeping us (barely) sane. We use whatever we can find. We are melancholy, we are broken, and though we search, we cannot find a reason. We get older, sicker, weaker as we wait for change. Everyone drives past us but we don't care, through the music we have become immortal. We will be back to haunt the future. We will be back to claim what should be ours now