Blue Leaves Red Dust

Regiments of stoby poles, rabbits and erosion holes

All bare beneath the sky.

To the untrained eye this land is dry,

There's no waterholes in sight.

There are songs here,

No more geographic lies.

We just have to find them

And we'll never compromise.

The lyrics that I sent her

Are sung in clubs and community centres

And everybody's singing their own tune.

Got the call yesterday and we left straight away,

A long way for a funeral.

I saw the souls of all of us in the blue leaves and red

dust

And the heat is their embrace.

No more songs of

Tallahassee and Nashville.

We got music

Right outside the windowsill.

I can feel it when I roam

In the pubs and the nursing homes.

I can feel it coming down the wires.