We pulled in at that town by the bypass
That you drive past
Without a second glance
She's had her last dance
Yeah, we took our chance on a street
About four lanes wide
Dead quiet, 7 to 8 at night (right)
She was the 1985 tidy town winner
But now it's quiet after 5, you can't find dinner
Potholed roads, just as the locals like it
Some top spots nearby, spoken of in a quiet tip
In the hire car, felt the bumps
The only light was in the pub (ah)
Shrug of the shoulders
We headed in for counter grub
Unlucky son, the missus gone off to bed
I could do a bowl of chips
Or some butter and bread
Sweetened 4 schooeys, 3 lemon lime bitters
1 for the driver, 2 for the beat hitters
And we eat quick as if it's the last drinks
(Bar shuts at 9) he said after I asked him
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead
A game of darts, a fella asked the only drinker in the place
An older bloke with worry lines that make a roadmap of his face
Now he could see that we were blow ins, but was showin' hospitality
And gradually we warmed, went and chalked up a tally
He stammered a little, hammered but totally balanced
He leaned over and outed, are you up for a challenge?
Shows your talent, but what you say tell me a tale
Tried his hand on the land, great job at state rail
(He said) this was a town of industry
So many years back
But black years of drought and fire
Have left some fears cracked
He says you younguns probably don't wanna hear that
I served in New Guinea believe me son, we adapt
It's nothing to be sneered at (no)
We all thought was a busy boom town
Now become a backwater
It went Telstra, NAB then Australia Post
When that bypass went in's when we failed the most
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead
Formerly a town of bush rangers
I felt like a stranger
The air thin as the area paper
Days feel long as the Hume
He sent these through
Never thought they'd see the day
They gave thanks for diesel fumes
Just 2 visits from memory by the local member
In the past century
To the war memorial, at the cemetery
The train station was shut
So the only way to get north of the border is by catching a bus
But the bastards only stopped twice a week
Roadhouse, got some yellow postcards
I would roast in piece
And the young mostly being in the city
Gives the feeling that
A home quickly becomes a house with paint peeling
This fella was jovial
It won't be all over till the last beers poured man
It's it's more than ceremonial
Our last cheers sure
Raised our schooners in respect
Had to jet, full moon
Long road ahead
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead
Wind blowing through
Ghosts in my head
This lonely road
Has been left for dead