Daskarzine Lyrics - Cold Chisel - Cold Chisel

Well Daskarzine, she was pretty bland 

As she stretched out in the corner of the room 

She was Oh! so lazy with her pistol hand 

As her hair hung hot off the loom 

A red-eyed Chicken felt like stepping in 

But his lines lacked their customary cool 

Her conversation flowed like treacle from a tin 

And Chicken felt like some kind of fool 

Oh Yeah! 

Her every move 

Is a lesson in street ballet 

And they speak her name in cheap hotels 

From Turkey to Marseillaise 

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Seduction seems to hang in the dressing-room air 

But no-one knows just who's seducing who 

She puts it out wave after wave 

And never seems to miss the slightest cue 

Outside in the wings 

The curtain-boys cry lonely 

Their one true love is Daskarzine 

And for her they'll all die slowly 

Oh babe, she says, we've got to die sometime 

It's the sweetest thing we do 

Why not die from month to month 

With my touch to help you through 

Now Chicken left the room feeling angry and cold 

Young Stetson looked reluctant and lame 

Daskarzine had him neatly pidgeonholed 

And he was just clinging blindly to his name 

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I'm Stetson and I ain't so bad, he kept on saying 

But his mind was trapped in some kind of cage 

He had failed at the ancient art of role-playing 

And was fighting to leave the bleeding stage 

On the radio 

A tenor saxaphone 

Cries sweet jazz poetry 

And it breaks on Daskarzine's facade 

Of false serenity