Barry said his last goodbye To all the doomsday warriors And set off for the bay He could sniff the salt and scented sea He kicked the backside of the teeve The sky was in a darkening frame
The crowds trampling on the midden shells Buried underneath the carpark Where people danced and sang He'd been pedaling hard for most his life Now he could hardly reason why Quick buck flats in his line of sight They were grey daisies in the night The stars snuffed out of sight
He called out Can you really hear what you're saying? Who are the strange gods to whom you keep praying? Where is the soul, the substance and the whole When you're living on the last frontier every day?
Escape at one when the clock ran down On the Google centred town Where the industry of schadenfreude Had filled the harbour with warm beer Well they were grazing in the back stalls Their faces filled with false tears And he says, "I'm getting out of here off to that last frontier"
He's calling out now Who pays off the debts we're creating? Who fixes the messes that we keep making? Where is the soul, the substance and the whole When you're living on the last frontier every day?
He says Can you really hear what you're saying? Who are the strange gods to whom you keep praying? Where is the soul, the substance and the whole When you're living on that last frontier every day?
Call it out now Who pays off the debts we're creating? I wonder who fixes the messes that we keep making? Where is the soul, the substance and the whole When you're living on that last frontier every day?
Now can you really hear what you're saying? Who mends all those hearts that keep breaking? Where is the soul, the substance and the whole When you're living on that last frontier? Desire tangled up with fear The talking point's no longer clear anyway, anyway, anyway Anyway
Compositor: Peter Roberts Garrett (APRA)Editor: Sony/ATV Music Publishing Australia P/l (APRA)Administração: Sony Music Publishing LLCECAD verificado obra #34906245 em 02/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM