Song parody of

F-111

by Cold Chisel

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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

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F-111

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