F-111 - Cold Chisel

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

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

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

Lay your benediction on us all

Lotta systems in the ground

Used to be connected

Lotta fragments floating round

Yet to be collected

Lay your benediction on us all