Redmond, email

THE devil went down to Canberra, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal He was in a bind ’cause he was way behind and he was willin’ to make a deal He came upon this young man beatin’ on a Corolla and drivin’ it hot The devil jumped up on a gumtree stump and said: “Boy, let me tell you what I guess you didn’t know but I’m a tyre-fryer too And if you’d care to take a dare I’ll make a bet with you Now you fry a pretty good tyre, boy, but give the devil his due I’ll bet this blower of gold against your soul ’cause I think I’m better than you.”

The boy said: “My name’s Lynchy, and it might be a sin But I’ll take your bet and you’re gonna regret ’cause I’m the best that’s ever been” Lynchy fire up your Chev and hit your Corolla hard ’Cause hell’s broke lose in Canberra and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get this shiny blower made of gold But if you lose the devil gets your soul.

The devil opened up his door and said: “I’ll start this show” And flames flew from his pipes as he revved and made it go And he pulled the car across the pad and it made an evil hiss And a band of Demon carbs joined in – a sound you don’t wanna miss When the devil finished, Lynchy said: “You’re pretty good, ol’ son But sit down in that chair right there, let me show you how it’s done.”

Fire on the tyre, run boys run The devil’s in the house of the rising sun Lynchy on the big pad pickin’ at gears, Granny, want your car back? No child, no!

Well that ol’ devil bowed his head ’cause he knew that he’d been beat And he laid that golden blower on the ground at Lynchy’s feet Lynchy said: “Devil just come on back if ever you wanna try again I done told you once, you son of a bitch, I’m the best that’s ever been.”