Theres a place they sit Where the wind don't hit With a shadow hanging over it And sing with a sigh My dirt, my dirt is dry They put us on the steep Side of the hill Into our weatherboard shack on stilts All of the while The deeper the spiral Inside, all eyes Fi x upon a great divide Outside, all eyes Fi x upon an empty sky Theres something in the garden That makes her unhappy Theres something in the garden That makes her unhappy I dreamt that they found us The colour of coal As smoke crept through the fly wire holes And my dirt it was drier Than the ash from the fire I count the days In sand and sticks And act brave on the face of it Theres not a cloud in the sky My dirt, my dirt is dry Inside, all eyes Fix upon a great divide Outside, all eyes Fix upon an empty sky Theres something in the garden That makes her unhappy Theres something in the garden That makes her unhappy Come on let it wash us down, Down deep