I think I hear the sounds of then,
And people talking,
The scenes recalled, by minute movement,
And songs they fall, from the backing tape
That certain texture,that certain smell,

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds
In a room, of silent hardiflex
That certain texture, that certain smell,
Brings home the heavy days,
Brings home the the night time swell,

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia

The block is awkward - it faces west,
With long diagonals, sloping too
And in the distance, through the heat haze,
In convoys of silence the cattle graze
That certain texture, that certain beat,
Brings forth the night time heat

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think that this is Australia

To lie in sweat, on familiar sheets,
In brick veneer on financed beds
In a room of silent hardiflex
That certain texture, that certain smell,
Brings forth the heavy days,
Brings forth the night time sweat
Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia
This is Australia etc