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