in the desert in the dry
before the breaking of the rain
had reached a hundred and ten again
in the desert in the dry
on the overland telegraph line
don't go looking for a fight
nah nah nah nah,
I've heard the bullroarers
in the desert, in the dry
radio crackles and the bones bleached white
it's a knock-em-down storm
whistles and the tall trees break
nah nah nah nah,
I've seen the wild horses
I've heard the bullroarers
I've seen the wild horses
Jonathan Hart
O *