| You won’t find me in the busy city streets,
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| Or on intersections where the traffic meets,
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| You may think it’s me but have no doubt,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| When the sun sets on the bustle and the roar,
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| When the neon signs light up every door,
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| Well don’t expect to see my face about,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| Yes you’ll have to look for me much further out,
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| Cause I’ve seen the fire and flood and I’ve seen drought,
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| And I know what this wide brown land’s about,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| As the mist starts rolling in across the bay,
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| And the harbour lights fade softly with the day,
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| Just don’t expect you’ll see my face about,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| And when I shuffle off this mortal coil,
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| You’ll find me way out where the billy’s boil,
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| I won’t be in some manicure turnout,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| Yes you’ll have to look for me much further out,
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| Cause I’ve seen the fire and flood and I’ve seen
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| drought,
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| And I know what this wide brown land’s about,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| Don’t think you’ll find me resting in the shade,
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| For no-ones that really got it made,
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| The whole world may be searching there’s no doubt,
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| But you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| Yes you’ll have to look for me much further out,
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| Cause I’ve seen the fire and flood and I’ve seen drought,
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| And I know what this wide brown land’s about,
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| No you’ll have to look for me much further out.
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| Much further out. |