Burn -

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 tinnitus that lasts

As I burn with the heat of a thousand 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 charred and let the wind blow away the ash

So I marked another tally and took a train back

To the town that raised me from tiny blade of grass

I was chased by a giant black 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 charred 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 things 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 charred and let the wind blow away the ash