| Where ancient mountains are whittled down
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| Millions of years to a little mound
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| Where giant feet are fossil found
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| I see spinifex surfing on a dune
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| The rock is redder in the afternoon
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| Tourists clicking madly soon
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| Where spring will come with any rain
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| A chance to flower and seed again
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| Forever garden risin' plain
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| The dangers of the wild remain
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| And away up there where the wind is blown
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| Never before felt so alone
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| More aware of skin and bone
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| I watch the parade of human folk
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| Strips of rubber, cans of Coke
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| Making dust and blowing smoke
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| Where the awe-inspiring power of time
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| Leave some fearful, some sublime
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| White man finds his progress prime
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| Black man feels no urge to climb
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| Now I believe we all are one
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| Features and creatures in the sun
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| Breathing the air we all belong
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| I have a dream I can’t explain
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| Wattle soldiers, making claim
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| And paradise returns again |