Cold Chisel - F-111

Birds fly up as I pull into town
Desert storm as the sun goes down
Park the bike on holy ground
Temple by the store

Temple priests are pretty shot
Jimson weed and thanks a lot
Crazy abbot, gotta stop
Put my guns down, by the door

F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all
Virgin in the window
Pynchon in the rectory

Lotta chanting round the room
Of things in history
People sellin' stocks and shares
Looting what was never theirs

Chokin' on the subway stairs
To cheat their destiny
F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all

The storeman asked me once
To leave my barter on the table
Another methane cylinder
Another roll of cable

I'm in two minds to stay the night
Or leave this town behind
Far behind
F-111, F-111

Lay your benediction on us all
Lotta systems in the ground
Used to be connected
Lotta fragments floating round

Yet to be collected
F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all

Written by:
Don Walker

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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