Look up on the ledge, there's a bomber diving on the golden street
Down below the crowd is falling, bullets under feet
Don't tlel me, don't tell me, hey don't tell me
We're under the beat of a brand-new marching order
Ears to be ground there's a party planned for the new recruits
Hurricane lamps are burning, teargas fills the route, yeah
Writer(s): Martin Rotsey, Peter Garrett, Robert Hirst, James Moginie, Andrew James
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