. . .
|
|
All the screens are filled with heroes and losers
but the sky's still filled with stars
this junky palace might be on fire
til the winners lose desire
let it go let it go.
So tell me what you see
tell me what you hear
if it's the same as me it's the golden age.
Big brother tries to stitch and bend
but channel surfers find new friends
see freedom's silhouette increase
its time to claim that sweet release
let it go let it go.
I can see a purple patch of jacaranda
framed in eucalypt from this wooden floored verandah
heading past the watermark
heading for the hills
heading for the edge of time
heading for the thrills of the golden age.
Now tell me what you see
and tell me what you hear
if it's the same as me it's the golden age.
Now everybody's talking about the golden age.
. . .
|
|
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
wear batik seen not heard.
Well we do the same things that we always do
nothing changes but the colour changes hue
I don't come to bury you
the trouble is with you.
We got too much sunshine,
we got too much sunshine.
Have you ever built your house
in a town called pissitaway
you were dreaming of marinas
with a crown you were king for a day
saw a man with a reason any season
got a bird in his hand.
Well we do the same things that we always do
nothing changes but the channel changes view
well the trouble with you has been
you can sleep but you can't dream.
We got too much sunshine.
. . .
|
|
capricornia don't walk away
show me to the back of your hand
capricornia don't leave me here
dying in the back of your land
in the evening things all fall apart
they crawl away dying in the bushes alone
in the morning well I see myself
see myself as a Christ like figure walking
in the evening things all fall apart
they crawl away
drowning in the setting sun
in the morning well I see myself
I see myself as a father mother brother sister
capricornia don't walk away
show me to the back of your hand
capricornia don't fade away
show me to the back of your hand
capricornia it's a free ride
capricornia
. . .
|
|
There's no highway to luritja way
I listen I listen for it now.
There's no turnoff to luritja way
one moment one moment for me please.
I'm reaching out for you across a thousand years
I'm reaching out for you.
Joining the dots at luritja way
there is something hanging in the breeze.
Empty space at luritja way
no richer one picture of discontent.
I'm reaching out for you in a valley full of tears
I'm reaching out for you.
And I don't want to go home
gasoline junkies dance stoned
it's better than drinking alone.
Oh guiding light you will shine you'll pick me up
you'll hold me up
oh guiding light you will shine
you will shine on me in eternity.
Love is bought and sold
wobbegong tooth of gold
no one gets to get old.
I'm reaching out for you cos I still believe in you.
. . .
|
|
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
where will you live when the fields are falling?
where will you live when the feedlots calling?
everybody standing in the treetops saying
where will you live? where will you live?
everyone dosen't have to beg or borrow
were going to move into a new tomarrow
where will you live? where will you live?
invisable hand clutching at the throat
statistical sham an emperor's rags its sad its so sad
because equality's the only plea green fields are burning
the reefs on fire and bellies are swollen they're hurting
a willing victims I dont think so
we won't be pinned agains't the wall
there is no slogan that can feed you
where will you live when the fields are falling?
where will you live when the feedlots calling?
everybody standing in the treetops saying
where will you live? where will you live?
tearing up your ticket for the new titanic
heat haze refugee no-one panic
where will you live when the water comes over?
where will you live? where will you live?
take a deep breath don't have to drown in sorrow
take a deep breath for a new tomarrow
the bow will break the cradle fall
we won't be jammed against your wall
. . .
|
|
|
. . .
|
|
when they march
when they march over fields of green
when they march
when they march over fields of green
when they march
when they march over fields of green
walking in the wilderness
no future to the question
you might get a simple answer
get a simple answer
walking in the wilderness
you're naked now just skin and sand
you'll get a smile answer
get a smile answer
see the king see the king of happiness
see the king
see the king of happiness in the light
in the light you can see him crawl
see the king
see the king of happiness
walking in the wilderness
no future to the question
you might get a simple answer
get a simple answer
walking in the wilderness the endless distance
you don't need to get a smile answer
get a smile answer
past the point of no return
your like a dog without a bone
so get a simple answer
get a simple answer
. . .
|
|
Fresh air soft landing
so good to be home
this bruised world's got its beauty
it's where I belong.
The sight of those green curves
quickens my heart
break the grip of Leviathan
now I'm ready to start.
Have I been away too long
have I been away too long
have I been away too long
I just can't wait.
Saw big smoke umbrella
blue lights up close
exploiters of psyche
stealing the code.
I imagine completeness
no spin cycle deceit
time and tide keep on rolling
now the world's at my feet.
. . .
|
|
Don't want to live in a prison cell
don't want to live in a smoking room,
independence just won't come to you
in the brief of a diplomat.
Say your prayers for the future
say your prayers for the past,
it might be round the corner
it might be all we have.
Say your Prayers.
Don't want to live with a compromise
don't want to live with hypocrisy,
bureaucracy doesn't have to win
breaks the cage of the beast within.
Say your prayers in the boardroom
say your prayers on the stairs,
it might be catastrophic
it might be too damn bad.
Say your prayers.
I got the cure for compassion fatigue
spend a week with the Timorese,
running scared from the military
you can share you can share your disease.
Now we don't live with an absent master
we don't live on an island divided,
don't want my kids to grow up in shame
in a country with a different name
had to throw them out, had to break the chains.
I got the cure for compassion fatigue
spend a week with the Timorese,
running scared from the military
I come to you with a plaintive plea.
. . .
|
|
oh the news will travel slowly
over broken glass
and I'll bet you've heard that story
under the overpass
got no time to weep for something
you?ll never get back
if your feeling cold and lonely
under the overpass
hallelujah hallelujah
under the overpass
dingo cry in the middle of the night
snakeskin crawl under desert sunlight
I wish and I hope
someone's there to drink from the soak
in the town where I hit the ground
its the town with the full nelson sound
yea the news will travel slowly
over broken glass
time and again your gonna hear that story
under the overpass
got no time to weep for something
you can never get back
if your feeling cold and lonely
under the overpass
you can never get back
if your feeling sad and lonely
under the overpass
hallelujah (repeated in various forms)
under the overpass
under the overpass
. . .
|
|
In a country that we call home
in a land that's skin and bone
there's a place that's hardly known.
Mountains appearing with the sun
rivers of light they westward run
night is draining from the firmament.
Railway fettler broken down
on a branch line somewhere south
off the map and off the world.
There is no end to the world that I see
there is no end to the world that I see.
As we swing from star to star
we're not going very far
the land is hard and gives no quarter.
The o'cannon garrison falls down
you cannot hear the church bell sound
the sun beats down and gives no sanctuary.
As sure as I stand on this place
the spirit comes
let lightning strike and leave no trace.
. . .
|
|
Here comes the mechanical sun
working on the bones in the dry old creek bed
mist on the old river bend yellow box hangs like it's dead
the emerald silo is rusting from the inside.
You want to run like the wind you'll never come here again
you want a world you can save so c'mon you poets and slaves.
Circus olympia pulls into town
the dwarf and the fat man head out for beer
there is no lion that roars to one can stand on the horse
tomorrow is a no show the fortune teller cries.
You want to go down in flames you're gonna crash like the waves
you can't remember your name so come on you poets and slaves.
We got everything we need sugar and beef
we got some good ideas
we got the steering wheels and rolling stock too
clouds came down low on the corn
meat ants are gathering like storms
somewhere in the quiet wild darkness a crocodile cries.
You gotta you gotta you gotta
c'mon you poets and slaves.
You got to arrest the decay you're sinking down in the bay
you can't remember your name c'mon you poets and slaves.
You've got to count what you've made
you're gonna pass like the days
stop time and head for the stage.
And c'mon you poets and slaves
c'mon you poets and slaves.
. . .
|
|
It's a lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night where the wild dingoes call
But there's nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer
Now the publican's anxious for the quota to come
And there's a far away look on the face of the bum
The maid's gone all cranky and the cook's acting queer
What a terrible place is a pub with no beer
Then the stockman rides up with his dry dusty throat
He breasts up to the bar and pulls a wad from his coat
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
As the barman says sadly the pub's got no beer
Then the swaggie comes in smothered in dust and flies
He throws down his roll and rubs the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told, he says what's this I hear
I've trudged fifty flamin' miles to a pub with no beer
Now there's a dog on the v'randa, for his master he waits
But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover and he cringes in fear
It's no place for a dog 'round a pub with no beer
And old Billy the blacksmith, the first time in his life
Why he's gone home cold sober to his darling wife
He walks in the kitchen, she says you're early Bill dear
But then he breaks down and tells her the pub's got no beer
The pub's got no beer
The pub's got no beer, oh yeah
The pub's got no beer, oh yeah
Oh it's hard to believe that there's customers still
But the money's still tinkling in the old ancient till
The wine buffs are happy and I know they're sincere
When they say they don't care if the pub's got no beer
So it's a lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night where the wild dingoes call
But there's nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer
. . .
|
Switch to Russian 
