| Well I’m half a mile from Canberra
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| Where it snowed for fifteen minutes
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| Now it’s gone
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| I could put my stocking on the tree
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| Suspending all belief
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| But I know that’s wrong
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| So very wrong
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| 'Cos it’s Christmas in July
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| And my extraordinary life is still on song
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| A lot going on
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| I’ve released my inner Santa
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| And he’s dancing with the 'roos by the billabong
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| In a sarong
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| We’re eight thousand miles from Reykjavik
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| Where snow is falling thick
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| And I miss my boo
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| I don’t know what to do
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| So I stare back at a reindeer
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| Through a glass wall
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| In the old Taronga zoo
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| And I think of you
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| 'Cos it’s Christmas in July
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| And this extraordinary guy
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| Who’s aim was true
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| But he missed his cue
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| Is dreaming of a cold white night
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| Where everything
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| Could be put right
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| Tonight
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| For me and you, ah yeah
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| I’m driving out in this nowhere zone
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| To find some place, somewhere warm to go
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| 'Cos it’s so damn cold
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| Soon everything could be put right
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| My lonely snow-cone world
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| Would be shut tight
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| Without a fight
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| And I’ll see Santa landing on the roof
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| A lone star in the sky
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| To serve as proof
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| Oh ain’t that the truth?
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| But it’s Christmas in July
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| And my extraordinary life’s all black and white
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| Out here tonight
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| And there must have been an oversight
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| No blinking of a warning light
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| Tonight
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| And that ain’t right
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| So it’s Christmas all alone
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| I’m in a place that I can’t really call my home
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| And my cover’s blown
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| And I’m a million light years
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| Out of place
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| Dreaming of a time so far away
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| So far from home
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| And I’m all alone |