F-111 Songtext
von Cold Chisel

The birds fly up as I pull into town
A desert sun as the sun goes down
Well I park the bike on holy ground
The temple by the store
The temple priests are pretty shot
Jimson weed and thanks a lot
And crazy abbot, I gotta stop
Put my guns down, by the door (come on now)

F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all

Well virgin in the window
A pynchon in the rectory
A lotta rumours floatin′ 'round up there
In history
Well people selling stocks and shares
Are looting what was never theirs
And chokin′ on the subway stairs
To cheat their destiny


F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all
F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all (come on)

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 that far behind
Far behind

F-111, F-111
F-111, F-111

Well there's a lotta systems in the ground
That used to be connected
There′s a lotta fragments floating ′round
That are yet to be connected

F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all
Well F-111, F-111
F-111, F-111
Lay your benediction on us all