Beat Farmers

(Transcribed by Mike Yak. I hope it's right!)

Out in Blacktown tonight
There’s a fire burnin’ bright
A memory of some far away dream
And the men all hand it ‘round
Like hard whiskey going down
Ain’t it just about the clearest night you’ve seen

And tomorrow they won’t believe it
Though they heard it on the TV
Some won’t wait, they’ll just go back to sleep

And they’ll talk about the trade winds
The days and weeks it still may take
Before the first hot ashes come down on their dreams

Look up now at the Southern Cross
At God’s own stars up in the sky
Look up now at the Southern Cross
At God’s own heavens on our last night

Though the bravest men will hide their eyes
And hold close to them children and wives
They know from a silent world, it has been done

There’s no time to blame the dead outside
What good to curse the cracklin’ night
The last war has been fought and it’s been won

Look up now at the Southern Cross
At God’s own stars up in the sky
Look up now at the Southern Cross
At God’s own heavens on our last night