Place Without A Postcard

Tell for yourself, watch me sweat, watch me crawl
Stretch me on the table, up against the wall
You can see for yourself, but you better not say
You're working four more hours every other day

See me suffer see me pain
Must be someone else to blame
See me suffer see me pain

There's more trouble at the dockyard
Party's shouting at the union
Short fuses on their anger
Workers in confusion
Then there's the vandals of the right
They stalk the streets at night
Got someone else to fight
Got someone else to blame

See me suffer...

You can speak for yourself
Before the moment is lost
But i don't wanna shout cos i' m counting the cost
I'm counting the cost

See me suffer...

(hirst/moginie/gifford)

I've seen faces in the window
I've seen faces in the street
They walk and talk of nothing
I've known many restless summers
The sand dunes i imagine
A place without a postcard
Flower people were so beautiful
But straight and loud's the way
Good luck the beatnik spirit
The talk of politicians
The sentences of cynics
Are the sentences of childhood

They're all talking shit to me

Out-talked by the mass media
To pay the bills it lies
And the lies we eat for breakfast
Brave faces face the boardroom
The oak stained walls fall silent
They leave lined with defeat

And they got those tears in their eyes
Well it makes no sense to me

Why don't they understand
We're so ordinary too
I saw the exits closing now
Pain and passion's my point of view
Well there's nothing like the truth

I've seen men that have been marked out
Ruled out by grim assassins
They fell hard on instant replay
And i'm never going there well the place i see so much better
Cos it makes no sense to me
I saw the exits closing now
Burning mountains, burning paper
Burning all around and later

(moginie/garrett)

The bar was crowded in the arvo din
And the voices got higher and higher
For the man at the back with the tickets in his hat
He would have to do more than aspire to
A place with some light on the sand near a beach
A place near some green running water
Place on the hill with a view of the sea
And the cooking was done by his daughter

If the quinella comes in today

The day is late and the race is run
A full weeks wages and the lots been done
'cos the meeting is over and the crowd has thinned
In the game of chance the dice has rolled it's spin
Another long week, lady luck makes it plain
His dreams and his hopes are dashed in vain
In the final shout as they call his name
His tickets lie like scattered leaves out on that asphalt plain

Looking around for the moment that's right
Lottery life well the numbers are tight
As they try one more pull on the handle too late
He thinks of what could be it sticks in his throat

If the quinella...

(garrett/moginie)

Speed, and this
There's a feeling i get when i look to the sun
Love, it's so tough
Cause it raises your hopes and then it makes you run

We're all looking for a shorter day
We're all looking for an easy way
Even when the debts are dead and gone

Down, the stairs
And an eight mile drive waits for you to turn on
Hear, the time clocks sing
And the smoke in the distance reaches the eye line

We're all working on a shorter day...

No conversation as you go
There's so much space the heat moves you
Terracotta homes, backyard barbeque and eucalyptus smell
It's fine on the clothes line
It's fast food and slow life and red roof
My silence, comic interruptions
Surely there's some relief from atomic art
And the fragile state of world events
With clowns who love the kings and power and the mutant media babes
Wanking on dreams and fashions and toilet paper flowers
Don't talk to me in this backyard - it's clandestine, it's nuclear
Smell of space and now forever i wanna go
Straight down the exit eight mile attraction
U-turn is up and the time clock sings lets go

Lucky country
Where the geckos are paid to live in the sun
On and on there's a ribbon of road and a mile to spare
Lucky country
Lucky country

(moginie/garrett/rotsey/hirst)

The god forsaken rifleman stands rigid at the bar
The kids discover victims in the rubble and the tar
They're married to ambition to the slogans of the war
Slogans that used to be scrawled on the wall
Are written in the heart

A woman bows to mecca and she struggles to her feet
It's better since the president took shooting off the street
She pictures all the poverty the cursed holy war
The pictures that used to be scrawled on the wall
Are written in the heart

The elders make a promise and they forge it in the fire
The general's car is sabotaged, four bullets in the tire
With the burning of the words there goes the scorching of the earth
The words that used to be scrawled on the wall
Are written in the heart

(hirst/moginie/rotsey)