So there's trouble again on the eastern plains As a floral tribute is draped from my back It's the lure of the cattle market calling again The ruby red cobweb The sight I lack
And there's the fear that I hear Oh, a hundred wailing sirens The sound I'm drowned by The tinntitus that lasts
As I burn with the heat of a thosand red flares I could play dot to dot with the freckles on your face
And Oh, the things I've done And Oh, the gravel tooth son Burn me now like an ant with the magnifying glass Leave me chared and let the wind blow away the ash
So I marked another tally and took a train back To the town taht raised me from tiny blade of grass I was chased by a giant balck spool of cellophane That bound my body and cut off the gas
Was it the alcoholic blessing I gave myself Or the counter move book I hold Or the smell that rises post-heavy downpour Or the groove down her back like a book's centrefold
And Oh, the things I've done And Oh, the gravel tooth son Burn me now like an ant with the magnifying glass Leave me chared and let the wind blow away the ash
So there's trouble again on the eastern plains And those sirens are all I hear I was humbled by a industry and gave under the wright Of the thigns I'd done by my 24th year
And Oh, the things I've done And Oh, the gravel tooth son Burn me now like an ant with the magnifying glass Leave me chared and let the wind blow away the ash