A land as dry as dust And separate from colonial chaos And now we sit around Under a tree, haven for native sound Is it a want of man? To have nothing but horizons over sand It is seems like the only place Id ever want to go Brother I never knew Until he upped and shot the whole world through From here to Jabiru The sky above transforms from red to blue Is it a want of man? To have nothing but horizons over sand It is seems like the only place I'd ever want to go