Traveling in a fried-out combie,
On a hippy trail, head full of zombie,
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous,
She took me in and gave me breakfast, and she said…
«Do you come from a land down-under?
Where women glow and men plunder,
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder,
You better run, you better take cover.»
Buying bread from a man in Brussels,
He was six-foot-four and full of muscles,
I said «Do you speak my language?»
He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich,
And he said…
«I come from a land down-under,
Where beer does flow and men chunder,
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder,
You better run, you better take cover.»
Lying in a den in Bombay,
with a slack jaw and not much to say,
said to the man «Are you trying to tempt me?»
Because I come from the land of plenty?
And he said…
«Oh!!! Do you come from a land down-under?»
Where women glow and men plunder,
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder,
You better run, you better take cover.»