Well oh well I feel I'm in decay John Laws is on the air again It's heavy traffic, jacarandas, eye in the sky and foot on ground I see a million sand speck'd ants in mortal combat hand to hand
Seem to live this life long distance gaze at the things surround me People rolling in and out Those circles and tides confound me
And there's just one thing Yes there's just one thing
When there's a dollar to be made?
I was hanging round off Dobroyd Point When the first fleet chain sailed in Looked into the clearest blue The scurvy smell, the convicts cry
Now choppers strafe the supermarket sky Chopping down tons of trees Got seas of print not a soul can read say Why do I drown you build brick boxes One by one now they block my sun If Christ were here he'd camera check He'd cry so loud the planes would stop He'd cry so loud the earth would shake And men would fall in tinsel town
Yes there's just one thing...
When there's a dollar to be made?
Precious moments, precious few When that dollar's more than me and you It's the joy of forgetting, But we killed all our firstborn And we slashed and we burned And we sold off the paddocks And we raped and we gouged On the wings of a six-pack