Won't you come on down the line, away from barren ground
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The harlot and the autocrat, are they driving you further down
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The season's rhymes, they anchor me, against the raging tide
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Take you to the last wild place, skin and the stars they embrace
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A caveman could a saint become, on a hospital ward on the Somme
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We can dive into distant amoebas, our wings could melt in the sun
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I can shake, I can move, but I can't live without your love
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I can break, Over you, but I can't live without your love
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Our poet Henry Lawson, he named them, the lay'em out brigade
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Here they come, there they go, oh great god of development
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Don't really know you yet
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Coastline hosed down washed away, economics now there's nothing left
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Tomorrow's child takes concrete footsteps
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And theyll drink champagne or be damned
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And the storm is breaking now, yes the storm is crashing down
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(Moginie/Garrett)
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-----------------
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Shakers and Movers
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| Midnight Oil |
