The Walkabouts
The Walkabouts - Acetylene lyrics
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Rules of the game Have gone and changed Snapped! Somethin' snapped! Dog kings Flesh dreams Death's tune High noon Wild talk, wild talk The flame I breathe Flame I breathe Acetylene! Ventriloquist Earned your cut With your mouth shut Can't take More of this Dictator face On a postage stamp Car bomb Expressway ramp The road is torched Already torched Let it all crash Just where it will Then we'll see That nothin's here But what happens then? What happens then? Recipes For disaster Written on your cocktail napkin Bless the beasts! And the blowtorch