You're my favourite politician If it weren't for you I wouldn't be me If it weren't for you I wouldn't be free to sing this song in the clouds with wings on my back to my Muttie below crying for her son who went to your war If it weren't for you I wouldn't be at all If it weren't for you I wouldn't be at all You're my dream politician You did the good things, you did the bold things You took the brave decisions Now I'm on a beach in another green world left my Mother on Earth to hide from the drones that target the heat from her heart the whites of her eyes remain unseen seeing into the life of things seeing into the light of... And it's an empty glass toast Empty Glass toast Empty Glass toast Do you trust your politicians Are they the voice you wanted the fight you need to take down the enemies of our dream to perish under one law, one god, one tongue, one brain no mind and terror for all if it weren't for them we'd having a ball if it weren't for them we'd having a ball if it weren't for them... And it's an empty glass toast Empty Glass toast Empty Glass toast

From the deepest darkest night to the deepest darkest sea Raise the anchor set a course for surprise Stars shine by day and... ...night Luna winds wail wildly Sail on silver moon sail on Spirited souls and chocolate hearts And skyward facing, skyward facing ...grass Spring and all she'll bring Pretty and blissed Something unfolding I love a magical musical, I love a magical musical, I love a magical... Muse

Old Ruby's puckered lips meeting with the Baker, Moon is high... She's got dinosaur heart beats a soapy lather She's got him bound up with crystals 'n' stuff, Moon is high... Yeast bread fingers (now) probing in the dark The people are waiting cause that bread don't come Old Ruby's puckered lips mighty powerful stuff The tailors gone and made a fine silk dress, Moon is high... Tie-dyed green to contrast those lips... The butchers' gone 'n' ground a quality mince, Moon is high... to feed those lusty hips... The people are waiting cause that bread don't come Old Ruby's puckered lips mighty powerful stuff She sits in the park crucible in hand, Moon is high... Alchemy on her lips... Everyman host to her whims, Moon is high Alchemy on her lips... The people are waiting cause that bread don't come Old Ruby's puckered lips mighty powerful stuff

I was trained as a pup to tear at flesh smell the sweat of Man I was made to hunger till it drove me wild smell the fear in Man Now I'm Howlin... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line Chained to a barrel at Eaglehawk Neck with a whole-lotta-nuthin to do Starved for flesh at salt waters edge a whole-lotta-nuthin to do But howl... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line Some say food comes on two legs skin all split from whippin they is hardly good for feasting all split from the whippin So we howl... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line Wish I was a Tassie Tiger hiding from Man in them hills Dreamin of bunnies 'n' foxes Huntin with Man in the hills But we're howlin... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line I'm really very very nice Just don't leave me out at night I'm really very very sweet Captain gimme sumin to eat Cause I'm howlin... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line Howlin... on the Dog Line

Look at them borders we keep patrolling the deep Turning back them boats then we lie through grit teeth They say we don't trust their religion we don't trust their skin We don't care for their children and even less for their kin We should be We should be so smug We should be We should be so smug ... More chicken wings for the miners more pardons for the bankers more boys for the clergy more media for the masses More fees for the poor many more laws for the vocal no blankets for the homeless no entitlements for yu all... We should be We should be so smug We should be We should be so smug We lock them up on islands So long as they don't come ashore We're willing to carry the burden of violence And turn our backs to the law We got law breakers running the country We have no leadership that serves They've severed all dignity They're gonna get just what they deserve... We should be We should be so smug We should be We should be so smug

Chasing the sun to Muizenberg, tracing out waves in Kalk Bay Under blue skies I dream you through, salt is sweet on your skin my dear Bulldozin Bergies off the beach again, Kalkies diners order snoek and chips Languid Sundays on a Simonstown yacht, clouds are growing off Table Top The Portofino swings from dusk till dawn, guitars playing all day long Shooting the breeze on the rocks below, a perfect coffee at Lino's Under the skies in the year of the wind, Sifu Roy plays another song Jammin with the moon in Beaverlac, Fresh African water from camp-site taps Walking barefoot to Danger Beach The tide is rising on the Brass Bell Bar catch of the day at the fishing fleet dock drive to Kommetjie in a rusty car Coon dancin on the pier to a banjo's rapid strum Beaded wire at Olympia's door heart-shaped keyrings yer friends will adore Smilin with all yer shiny whites whales blowin winter tide Speakin with a Xhosa tongue g'day gets you... … the sun to Muizenberg, tracing out waves in Kalk Bay Under blue skies I dream you through, salt is sweet on your skin my dear Chasing the sun to Muizenberg, tracing out waves in Kalk Bay Under blue skies I dream you through, salt is sweet on your skin my dear

Whatever happened to the folk in music When a song was simply sung Whatever happened to the folk in music When a tune could be homegrown spun Whatever happened to the sharing tunes that never belonged to no one Whatever happened to the story-telling When you could give a tune your home town vibe Whatever happened to the folk in music when a poet could be sung Whatever happened to the poetry in music When fame didn't matter and singing songs was fun Where are the singers born to be forgotten heard in bars, never seen online walking country to the rhythm of footsteps them's the folks that bring their home town vibe Whatever happened to the folk in music When you didn't have a phone and it didn't matter none Whatever happened to the folk in music When every single word in the world could be sung Out from frontier ballad makers came As big as trucks in Guthrie's tunes Leadbelly's 12 string strummed out of time But them's the blokes that kept the homegrown live The dead make money for those who claim their rights There's a buck to be made from every tune Some folks crave fame just to be heard and then they'll want to own their home town vibe Whatever happened to the folk in music When you never heard the same song twice Whatever happened to the folk in music When guitars played till moon shun dry Too few remember the songs of their country Too few are taught the language of their kin Maybe all the songbooks will Googled online But who will teach our kids their home town... Thousands of pianos shoved into landfill Copyright's frozen music in time Families sit at home, each with their i-thing But they may never hear their home town vibe

I believe in you way out there I believe you're here listening to bugged-eyed men Their tryst with the Devil ain't on the level You've got them sussed, you're gonna be here like the rest of us You're teachin me to live so fine I believe you'll climb to where their heads have grown too wide Cuttin ice with the Devil and breathin heavy metals Lungs are full of rust You're gonna be here like the rest of us The lottery draw's on the Devil's side Some would say the end is nigh Plucking whales from the deep blue sea to stock a Tokyo restaurant Pump action rifles in Sarawak anything goes on a loggers day off Maybe all we need is another love song Maybe all we need is another love song Will the corals grow again will the Thylacine leave us here Will the Tucan sing its song to a world with no human... Maybe all we need is another love song Maybe all we need is another love song (Instrumental break) Maybe all we need is another love song Maybe all we need is another love song Will we walk on the Moon again and marvel at our world All alone in space All alone in space

I held your breath in mine for as long as I could, breath in mine for as long as I could I felt your heart in time for as long as I could heart in mind for as long as I could We tuned to the wires buried in the park broadcasting stories from the world We tuned our radios, so silent in the dark As the Soviet's marched on Prague. I heard your voice in mine for as long as I could voice in mine for as long as I could I felt your hand in mine for as long as I could hand in mine for as long as I could We tuned to the garden of forbidden names read out one by one Speak to me in Czech and liberate the spark As the tourists march on Prague [Instrumental] We tuned to the field, a garden of wires all the stories they told I listened to her voice, night after night Through the crackle and noise from Mars. I pressed your lips to mine for as long as I could lips to mine for as long as I could I held your hope in mine for as long as I could hope in mine for as long as I could as long as I could as long as I could Wir an den Drähten im Park begraben abgestimmt Rundfunk Geschichten aus der Welt Wir abgestimmt unsere Radios, so still in der Dunkelheit Da die Sowjets marschierten auf Prag. Wir in den Garten der verbotenen Namen abgestimmt Auslesen nacheinander Sprich zu mir in der Tschechischen und der Befreiung der Funke Da die Touristen Marsch auf Prag Wir wollen dem Gebiet abgestimmt, einen Garten von Drähten alle Geschichten, die sie erzählt Ich hörte seine Stimme, Nacht für Nacht Durch das Knistern und Rauschen von Mars.

I'm desperate for our loving longing for our touch Primed for a fever Primed Crawl me over and under steer me to the spot No end to the loving when we’re listening out for us Hold me to your skin every supple place Kiss me in the sunshine on the grass sky ballet Lead me through yer Tango to the very spot The tensions rising honey when we’re listening out for us When night time falls in Prague amid a song of strings Your voice a distant swallow your voice Listen for the last bees I can smell the naked spot We're tripping on serotonin when we’re reaching out for us

Comes a time when nothing really matters Comes a time when your Mother waves you bye Comes a time you forget yer Daddy's laughter and when last drinks are called and when last drinks are called Comes a time when there's nothing left to squander when there's no one left to call when there's no one left to remember and when last drinks are called and when last drinks are called Comes a time when all is said and done when fences won't need mending and the Internet's a graveyard and you're alone when last drinks are called and you're alone when last drinks are called and you're alone when last drinks Before the ferryman the bell will ring Outer space moonshine dreaming Before the ferryman the bell will ring Outer space moonshine dreaming Older than memory, star dust hurricane