JT's Wasteland Haven

. Dusty winds whisper through JT's garage doors. Rusty shadows dance

on the cracked concrete floors. Memories hung in the neon's faint glow.

A sanctuary where the lost souls go. Engines sigh like the ghosts of

the past. Every bolt holds a story that lasts. In this desert

where time slipped away, we still stand where the broken bones lay.

JT's wasteland haven, where the free still ride. Under starlit skies, with the dirt

in our eyes. No map to guide us just the road in our

veins. JT's wasteland haven keeps us safe. Oil-stained hands turn