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Full Moon
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The Herd
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1
We pulled in that town by the bypass
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That you drive past without a second glance
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She's had her last dance
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Yeah we took our chance on a street about four lanes wide
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Dead quiet seven or eight at night
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She was the 1985 tidy town winner
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But now it's quiet after five you can't find dinner
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Potholed roads just as the locals like it
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Some top spots near by spoken of on a quiet tip
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And the hire car felt the bumps
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The only light was at the pub
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Shrug of the shoulders we headed in for counter grub
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"Unlucky son the missus has gone off to bed
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I can do a bowl of chips or some butter on bread"
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Sweet ' four schooies, three lemon-lime and bitters
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One for the driver, two for the big hitters
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And we eat quick as if it's last drinks
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"Bar shuts at nine" he said, after I asked him
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[Chorus]
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Wind blowing through, ghost in my head
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This lonely road, has been left for dead
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Wind blowing through, ghost in my head
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This lonely road, has been left for dead
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"A game of darts" the fella asked the only drinker in the place
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An older bloke with worry lines that made a roadmap of his face
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Now he could see that we were blow-ins
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But was showing hospitality
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Gradually we warmed when he chalked up a tally
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He stammered a little hammered, but totally balancing
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He leaned over and added "Hey you up for a challenge?
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Test your talent, but what you say you tell me a tale"
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Tried his hand on the land, freight job with state rail
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He said "This was town of industry so many years back
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But black years of drought and fire have left some fierce cracks"
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He says "You youngins probably don't wanna year that
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I served in New Guinea, believe me son we adapt"
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It's nothing to be sneered at, we all fought
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It was a busy boom town now become back water
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It went Telstra, NAB then Australia post
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But when that bypass went in
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Thats when we failed the most
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[Chorus]
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Formerly a town of bushrangers I felt like a stranger
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The air thin as the area paper
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Days feel long as The Hume, few semis through
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Never thought they'd see the day they give thanks for diesel fumes
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Just two visits from memory by the local member
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In the past century, to the war memorial at the cemetery
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The train stations shut
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So the only way to get north of the border is by catching a bus
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But the bastards only stop twice a week
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Roadhouse, got some yellow postcards of roast and peas
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And the young mostly being city gives the feeling
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That a home quickly becomes a house with paint pealing
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This fellow was jovial
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It won't be all over till the last beer's poured
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Man, it's more than ceremonial
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Our last cheers sure, raised our schooner's in respect
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Had to jet full moon, long road ahead
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[Chorus]
Sonata Arctica - Fullmoon - Clip
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