The Walkabouts
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Coming Up For Air

The Walkabouts


Suckin' alabaster in a ventilator shaft
Chewin' on surrender because it's cheap and it lasts
This ain't hell, it's a holding tank
Where memory and the future draw a big, fat blank
I know this tunnel leads somewhere
But it takes mystery and a torch
And a reason to care
I know this tunnel leads outside
Down to the river where the elephants die

Comin' up
Up, Up, Up, Up
Comin' Up for Air

There is no better story than a man in a hole
This is where he laid still
This is how he rolled
This is how he fed, on the marrow of his bones
This is where he shuffled
Playin' doomsday alone
A suicide miner
With a depth charge timer
Rathole lover
Diggin' deep for a cover
You suffocate first
Then you learn how to breathe
The sweet of the sewer
Shows you the way to leave

make room for the cleanup crew
They're the last to the scene
and the first to be fooled
The townsfolk line thick
Along the riverside
Lookin' for a place
to watch the elephants die

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