There's a road train going nowhere. Roads are cut, lines are down. We'll be staying at the Roma Bar. Till that monsoon passes on. . The backbone of this country's broken.
Like a heat wave breaking as you smell warm rain. We can fade away or start over again. In a high five season in a cut-price land. The southern cross don't shine on that invisible hand.
Haven't had so much fun since my daddy. Took the V8 away. Light a spark in the dark take a mark. It's resurrection day. It's a breeze timorese apec speak.
In the cities and the towns. The word is coming down. No more doubt, no more pain. There's been a dragging of the chain. Now there's a price we gotta pay.
I'm gonna wait for the moment to come. I'm gonna wait till we all stop from running. Boxed in like candles, polar bear pride. Turning to terror as the script is read out.
Who will march for peace. Now that the last of the diggers has gone. All those who were released. From Sulva Bay and from the Somme. The Mallee is whipped by sand.
We don't serve your country. Don't serve your king. Know your custom don't speak your tongue. White man came took everyone. . We don't serve your country.