Well it's hotter 'n blazes and all the long faces
There'll be no oasis for a dry local grazier
There'll be no refreshment for a thirsty jackaroo
From Melbourne to Adelaide on the overlander
With newfangled buffet cars and faster locomotives
The train stopped in Serviceton less and less often
There's nothing sadder than a town with no cheer
Voc Rail decided the canteen was no longer necessary there
No spirits, no bilgewater and 80 dry locals
And the high noon sun beats a hundred and four
There's a hummingbird trapped in a closed down shoe store
This tiny Victorian rhubarb
Kept the watering hole open for sixty five years
Now it's boilin' in a miserable March 21 st
Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse
The train smokes down the xylophone
There'll be no stopping here
All ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer
No Bourbon, no Branchwater
Though the townspeople here
Fought her Vic Rail decree tooth and nail
Now it's boilin' in a miserable March 21 st
Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse
The train smokes down the xylophone
There'll be no stopping here
All ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer
Writer(s): Thomas Alan Waits
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