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.
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.